


Expensive

by rilakumabear



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Implied Violence, M/M, Prostitution, attempted gang rape (not explicit), mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 03:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1250968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rilakumabear/pseuds/rilakumabear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Changmin is an expensive, high class hooker and Yunho is a hardworking businessman who likes to indulge in things with the heaviest price tags. An agreement is arranged, but there are some things in life that money can't buy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It takes a while before Yunho’s breathing manages to slow down enough to its normal state. The haze of fury slowly dissipates, and he’s left to inspect the hotel room to see how much damage he’s caused. In the end- not too much. Not too much by his standards, anyway- Yunho has money, quite a lot of it. It’s the result of being born into the family of one of the top companies in South Korea, and his own workaholic tendencies that has turned the company into _the_ top company in South Korea. Within fifteen years, Yunho aims for it to be the top company in Asia.

But for now, he surveys the hotel room with its smashed 60-inch plasma television screen, the upended antique furniture, and the dents in the wall where he must have thrown said antique furniture against. And all because of that _whore_. Yunho scoffs to himself as he reaches into the wardrobe- the door barely hanging on by its hinges- and pulls out a new suit. (Armani, naturally).

The bespoke tailoring slides around his form perfectly, and by the time he’s straightening his tie, his next steps are decided. Firstly, he’ll track down the hooker who’s services he’d purchased only hours ago. The silly boy had tried to take Yunho’s watch with him on the way out- a gesture that Yunho did not appreciate, hence the chaos that had followed. He would ensure the whore would never get another client again. It almost sounded like Yunho would be saving the boy from a desolate lifestyle, but Yunho was nothing if not thorough- the prostitutes he liked to occasionally indulge in all came from high-end, exclusive clubs, of which he was a V.I.P. member. It wouldn’t do to cruise around the grimiest corners of the city to pick up a malnourished kid probably laden with disease. As with most things in his life, only the best would do. Without any more rich clients, the boy would be out of a job and God knows what would happen to him then. Not that it would be Yunho’s concern anymore.

He calls for room service as he picks up his briefcase to head to work- a few hours early, but at least he would get some more work done. The poor hotel staff who arrives at his door splutters at the mess as Yunho makes to leave.

“S-sir, I’m so sorry, but we’ll have to charge you for the, er, damage caused,” she tells him bravely, probably frightened that Yunho would direct the same violence at her.

“Why, of course,” he replies smoothly, flashing her the charming smile he’d used so often because of the effect it had on people. “And whilst you’re at it, please refurbish the bar area; the décor is too bland for my liking.”

“Excuse me, Sir?” she asks, bewildered. Yunho allows his smile to grow.

“This room- in fact, the whole hotel belongs to me. So if I decide to, ah, move the furniture around, then your job is to comply with my wishes. Understood?”

He waits exactly three seconds before the horrified realisation dawns on her face: _Oh my God, that’s Jung Yunho-_ , before sauntering away to the private lift that connected his quarters to the rest of the building. The sun had barely risen from the sky, and already Jung Yunho felt bored.

*

“You know money is no problem for me, Jaejoong,” Yunho is saying, staring down his friend- or at least, the closet thing he could call friend, because he knew they were both willing to stab the other in the back if the occasion arose. “I only want the best.”

“I’m aware of that, Yunho,” Jaejoong says drily, taking a long drag on the cigarette balanced carefully between his delicate fingers. “But if you keep chasing away my boys, I’ll have no business left. And no business for me means you won’t have access to,” he pauses, flicking his eyes to Yunho, “the best.”

“That bitch tried to steal my watch,” Yunho snaps. Jaejoong shrugs, unconcerned.

“Can you blame him for being tempted? You have so much money Yunho, surely a little trinket like that going missing isn’t going to scratch the surface of your immense wealth.”

“He tried to steal from _me_ ,” Yunho reasserts, frowning. He takes a sip of the whisky that Jaejoong reserves especially for him. It flows down his throat, warming his belly, dousing the little flames of anger that had started to kindle.

“Yes, of course, how dare he,” Jaejoong drawls in agreement. He straightens up a little, a sure sign that he’s about to talk business, and Yunho smirks to himself inwardly. The man was nothing if not predictable.

“I have a proposition for you,” he says, and Yunho raises an eyebrow, feigning interest. “There _is_ someone I think you’ll be interested in-”

“But?”

“But,” Jaejoong continues, eyes narrowing in annoyance. “He’s rather new to… all of this.”

“An inexperienced kid who barely knows how to beat off, let alone suck cock,” Yunho rolls his eyes. “Not interested.”

“I didn’t say he was inexperienced with sex,” Jaejoong cuts in quickly. “I mean he’s new to the _business_ of sex.” Yunho glances at the other man, a little surprised. It wasn’t like Jaejoong to offer him anything less than his personal selection of expensive boys. A newcomer- whether to sex or the prostitution business- would surely mean a lower price tag. Yunho was very rich, after all, and Jaejoong rarely wasted an opportunity to get his hands on his wealth.

“I must say, I wasn’t expecting this,” Yunho confesses, frowning. Jaejoong smirks- not a worrying sign, but Yunho knew the androgynous beauty was full of deceit. He would be a fool not to raise his guards.

“He’s twice the price of your last boy,” Jaejoong announces. “And let me reassure you, Max is _very_ good at what he does.”

“Max,” Yunho repeats, letting the name roll around his mouth and over his tongue. He rather liked the idea of saying it out loud. _Suck my cock, Max. On your back, Max. Let me fuck you, Max._

“I know you won’t believe me,” Jaejoong mistakes his reaction as scepticism. “So why don’t I introduce you for now? A little taster session, if you like. Free of charge, of course, for my most loyal customer. And if you enjoy tonight’s’ little meeting, then, well,” he smirks. “I’m sure we can work out some kind of arrangement.”

“You sound rather confident,” Yunho remarks, draining his tumbler of whisky. Jaejoong says nothing, merely smiles expectantly. “Very well. Bring him in.”

Left alone in the plush V.I.P room of Jaejoong’s club, Yunho sinks back into the soft velvet seating, listening to the dull throb of bass coming from the dance floor mere metes away. The lighting is dimmed slightly, enough to create a more sensual atmosphere, but not enough to make him want to fall asleep. As always, when he was left to his own thoughts, Yunho mentally checks back with his duties at work, wondering if his three PA’s had managed to work out his schedule for a business trip to China next month. The door clicks open as he’s thinking, revealing a smug looking Jaejoong and another man, tall and slender. _Max._

“Yunho, this is Max,” Jaejoong announces, not-so-subtlety pushing the other man further into the room. “And Max, this is Jung Yunho. Now I’ll leave you two to, ah, get better acquainted.” He smiles sweetly at them both, and leaves, the door slamming shut behind him.

Yunho surveys the boy- no, _man_ \- in silence. His long legs are encased in sleek black material, his chest covered with a deep purple satin shirt that’s fitted to his form perfectly. Under the thin material, it’s clear that Max is lean with toned muscles. The top few buttons are undone, leaving a tantalising few inches of creamy unblemished skin. His hair is a little long, beginning to curl at the ends, framing an angular face complete with full lips, a strong jaw and dark eyes that stare straight back, unabashed. Suddenly, Yunho realises he hasn’t said a word yet.

“Would you like a drink?” he offers, gesturing to the mini-fridge that’s full of Jaejoong’s alcohol.

“No, thank you.” Max replies calmly. He’s still on the other side of the room. Yunho raises an eyebrow. _Very well then._ He lifts an arm, crooks a finger at Max.

“Come here.”

Max doesn’t walk, he _saunters_ , hips swaying just so; the fabric of his shirt rippling against his body. Yunho is mesmerised, even as Max sinks down to the sofa next to him, their thighs pressed so close Yunho thinks he can feel the outline of the other man’s muscle.

“Does my appearance please you?” Max purrs, leaning forward to place a light kiss on his exposed throat.

“Deeply,” Yunho replies, voice soft and smoky. He places a finger under Max’s chin, lifting his face so he can inspect it. From across the room, Max was a vision; up close, Yunho is left breathless. Max smiles a little, obviously pleased with his reaction, and presses impossibly closer. Yunho lifts his finger, stroking the sharp angles of the other man’s face.

“You know,” he starts, tracing the outline of Max’s lips with a finger. “Jaejoong told me you’re new, but you seem to know what you’re doing.” He pushes the tip of his finger past Max’s smooth lips, trying not to moan when Max sucks, dipping his head down a little and gazing at Yunho through his long eyelashes.

“That’s because I know what I want,” Max whispers, sliding a hand onto Yunho’s thigh, inching close to his crotch. He uses his other hand to push aside Yunho’s, placing it on the nape of Yunho’s neck and brings their faces close. His hot breath lands on Yunho’s cool skin, and he feels himself growing hard. Perhaps Jaejoong was right, after all.

“And what is it that you want, exactly?” he indulges the other man, feeling a thrill of delight when Max smiles; a sexy smirk that sends his blood rushing south.

“Why don’t I show you?” And then Max is kissing him. Their dialogue is like something out of a bad porno, but this kiss- this was something else entirely. They’re rough with each other, all teeth and clashing tongues, fighting to dominate. Max lifts himself up to straddle Yunho, slowly working his hips in a torturous circle as their erections grind together. Yunho grips Max’s ass, massaging the muscles until the other man is moaning into his mouth. He reaches up to undo Max’s shirt, but his hands are batted away.

Yunho usually hates not being in control, especially when he’s with a whore, but he finds that he’s able to make an exception for the gorgeous man above him. Max cradles his face as they kiss, as if he’s focusing entirely on memorising every slope and plane of Yunho’s mouth. Then he slowly brings them down Yunho’s chest to pinch his nipples- hard.

“Ohhh, fuck,” Yunho gasps. He’s never had anyone do that to him before, but _fuck_ it felt amazing. “Do it again,” he urges, and Max moans, obliging immediately. He pinches again, twisting mercilessly through the material of his shirt. It _hurts_ , but also makes his erection swell even more, straining against the zipper of suit pants. He can’t hold it anymore, reaching up to pull Max’s shirt away. Vaguely, he can hear a few buttons snapping off, but he doesn’t care, desperate to reach the glorious skin beneath. Max pulls back a little, breathing hard.

“It’s normally extra for kisses,” he says. “But I’m told tonight’s an exception.” He slides down to the floor, gazing up at Yunho with a flushed face and swollen lips, as he carefully unzips Yunho, freeing his cock. “Now tell me. How do you want it?”

“Oh, your mouth, fuck, yes,” Yunho groans. “Suck me off and let me fuck you.” He fists his hands in Max’s thick hair, urging his mouth closer.

“God, yes,” Max gasps, and opens his mouth, gloriously eager. Suddenly, Yunho feels the need to take back the reins, so he grips Max’s head, preventing him from getting any closer. He pushes the tip of his cock against Max’s lips, smearing the precome by gently rubbing back and forth. Max huffs a little, like a child denied, and licks it all up.

“Good boy,” Yunho praises. Max’s lips are swollen and red, and he moans from lust and expectation. Eventually Yunho stops teasing, releasing his grip on Max’s head and allows the other man to wrap his lips around his length. Yunho grits his teeth at the sudden heat, arching his back. He’s vaguely amazed by the way Max easily accommodates his cock, greedily cramming as many inches into his mouth as possible. Max goes slow, slurping loud, making Yunho’s dick wet and glistening with saliva. It’s filthy and _fuck_ , the other man knew exactly how to use his mouth. Yunho wants more.

“Enough,” he gasps, pulling away, although his body screams in protest. “Strip.”

Max sheds his trousers in a heartbeat, revealing his longs legs and hard cock. He crawls- honest to God, _crawls_ \- back towards Yunho, pausing only to bring a bottle of lube from the discreet drawer in the coffee table. Condoms are unnecessary- Jaejoong wouldn’t dare bring him one of his boys if they weren’t clean.

Yunho snaps his fingers and points at the coffee table. “On your back. Prep yourself and let me watch. I want you leaking and open for me.”

Max obeys immediately, lying down onto the low wooden table, spreading his legs so Yunho has a clear view of his hole. Yunho decides to toss his a cushion from the sofa so he has something soft to lean his head on, but also because he wants to see Max’s face as he works himself open.

Yunho groans softly at the sight before him, pumping his dick with his fist, his length still slick with Max’s spit. Max whimpers, the sound quiet, but Yunho hears it anyway. He’s pushing in a third finger now, slowly in and out, eyes hooded and glazed over with lust. “That’s it,” Yunho encourages, breath hitching. “Fuck yourself for me.”

Max gasps, back arching. He lifts his head to gaze at Yunho, a silent question on his lips.

“Come here,” Yunho orders, watching as Max gets to his feet immediately, a little unsteady. His cock is leaking, precome dribbling down in rivulets, and Yunho can’t resist giving it a few firm strokes, making the other man cry out loud. He grasps Max by the hips, drawing him to his knees on the sofa, straddled across his lap. “Ride me,” Yunho demands, and Max moans as he hastens to obey. He slowly sinks down on Yunho’s length, both of them gasping.

“Oh _fuck_ , you’re big, fill me up, oh God yes,” Max says, voice hoarse. He starts moving then, a steady pace as he adjusts to the length inside him. Impatient, Yunho allows it for a while before snapping his hips up to meet him. Max makes a choked sound, moving faster with him. He plunges down, lifts himself back up, panting and crying out. “Yunho, _Yunho_ , fuck yes, yes-”

“Faster,” Yunho gasps. He’s not going to last, not when Max is stretched out above him, over him, his mouth open in pleasure and a sheen of sweat glimmering on his chest. Yunho leans forward to take a nipple in his mouth, working his tongue over the hard nub and tasting the salty-sweet flavour of the other man. Max whimpers, drawing away, overly sensitive, tossing his head back to expose the long column of his neck. “Close,” Yunho grunts, and Max squeezes him arm in response, unable to form words. His balls tighten, orgasm impending, and Yunho reaches out to jerk Max off, for some reason wanting them to fall over the edge together.

“Oh,” Max pants, in time with Yunho’s ministrations. “Oh, oh, _oh-_ ”

“You want it?” Yunho grits out, slamming his hips up to impale him.

“Oh, I want it, I want it,” Max babbles, barely coherent, but Yunho grips the base of his cock in smug triumph, holding off the sweet release for just a moment longer.

“Beg me,” he demands, and Max wails, the need to come almost overwhelming.

“Please! Please, please, Gods, Yunho, I need-” and Yunho releases his grip, working his fist over Max’s cock, harder, and faster, and Max bucks his hips, grinding down on Yunho, and it’s perfect, it’s gorgeous-

With a shout, Yunho comes, emptying himself fully into the other man. Max opens his mouth in a silent scream, and lets go, ribbons of cum painting streaks down Yunho’s ruined shirt, all over his hand and some of it splattering onto the velvet cushions.

They collapse onto the sofa, Max draped across Yunho’s body, chest heaving. This would be the time where Yunho brushes him away, but he doesn’t really mind. When their breathing has slowed sufficiently, he nudges Max’s face with his own and kisses him, tasting remnants of himself in that sinful mouth. Eventually they break apart, and Yunho pulls out carefully. Max whimpers a little, still a little too sensitive after orgasm, sinking back on the plush seating that Jaejoong would probably have to get professionally cleaned.

When he’s recovered, Max straightens up, comfortable in his nudity. “So,” he says, eyes roaming over Yunho’s dishevelled state and ruined suit.

Yunho chuckles, reaching for a tissue to try and wipe himself down. “Usually I go for the most expensive things in life because I find they are of the best quality to suit my preferences.” He gazes at Max. “You are no exception. Whatever you might have on your schedule, cancel it. You have a new client.”

*

He spits out the mouthwash, watching as the translucent green liquid swirls down the sinkhole. After a shower and a change of clothes, he feels less… debauched. But even so, he can still feel the burn of Yunho inside him, something which he rather likes, albeit reluctantly.

The door clicks open and in steps Jaejoong. The older male never bothered to knock.

“Nice work, Max,” Jaejoong praises.

“It’s Changmin now,” he corrects. He doesn’t need to look up to know that his boss is smiling widely, satisfied with how the night had unfolded. They had taken quite a risk, but perhaps it would all be worth it.

“Just don’t forget the rest of our plan, cousin dear,” Jaejoong says quietly. “I cannot afford to let this fail.”

Changmin sighs, finally meeting the eyes of his relative. “Don’t worry. I’ve got him.”

Jaejoong nods in agreement. “I think you do. How long do you think this will take?”

Changmin smiles, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He straightens up, confident.

“Give me a month. Just one month and all this will be over.”


	2. Chapter 2

A muffled whimper makes Yunho pause, his hand hovering over the paperwork spread out across his mahogany desk. He waits a few seconds, and when he can’t hear anything else, he continues writing in his neat script. He’s almost finished with this file when another low moan interrupts his thoughts.

With a sigh, Yunho puts aside his work to stand up and saunter over to the long couch in his office, where Max is sprawled across, naked and glistening with sweat. His wrists are bound with Yunho’s belt and placed above his head. His mouth is gagged and there’s a cock ring placed snugly around the base of his length. He whimpers when he sees Yunho approach, spreading his legs to reveal the base of the vibrating butt plug pushed deep inside him, silently begging Yunho to finish what he started almost two hours ago.

“What’s the matter?” Yunho taunts, sliding his hand down the slick length of Max’s chest, pinching his nipples and making him writhe. “I told you I was busy. You can’t wait another five minutes?”

Max moans around the silicone gag, shaking his head furiously. Yunho sighs, a little disappointed, and pulls out the butt plug, leaving Max to sag against the couch in relief. Yunho reaches up to undo the gag, and Max moans again, working the ache out of his jaw.

“Maybe I should just leave you like this,” Yunho murmurs, running his fingers up and down Max’s inner thighs. His voice is soft, as if he’s speaking to himself. “Work you up into a frenzy and make you go home with that cock ring still around you.” He tips his head to the side, contemplating. “Would you like that?”

“No,” Max gasps. “Please, I need-”

“Shut up,” Yunho says dismissively, pleased when Max immediately closes his mouth. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? My good boy. You want to come? What makes you think I’ll let you do that?”

Max says nothing, but inches down the sofa until his ass is right in front of Yunho, invitation blatant. Yunho almost laughs. He always made sure to break in his boys, so they would always know who was in charge. Most of them were submissive immediately, eager to please and let him have his way. Max was different. He was naked and had his wrists tied, legs spread open for Yunho’s viewing, yet there was nothing submissive about him. Instead, Max was on equal footing here, a consenting adult who enjoyed this as much as Yunho. It should bother him, but Yunho quietly admired the other man. It was certainly a change from the usual faceless whores who moaned in fake ecstasy just to rub his ego. The belt wrapped around Max’s wrists was tight, but not enough that he couldn’t wriggle free if he really wanted to. Yunho hadn’t told him to hold his hands above his head, but he had done it anyway, giving the impression that he quite liked being Yunho’s little plaything.

“Oh, that’s right,” he says, deciding to play along. “Because I’ll fuck you first, and you won’t come until after I’m finished, will you?” He smiles when Max nods, eyes wide. Carefully, he eases off the cock ring, tossing it carelessly to the floor, and unzips himself.

Max groans when he slides in with ease, panting hotly as Yunho grips his hips and begins working into him fast. “Gonna come,” he whimpers, already too worked up from before.

“Not yet, beautiful,” Yunho gasps, snapping his hips even faster. His thrusts are hard enough that Max gets shoved up the sofa, his arms dangling off the armrest. Max is clenched around him tight, the heat-thinned lube squelching out with obscene sounds and smearing across his thighs, when Yunho yells, coming hard into the wonderfully pliant body beneath him. He pulls out, already sensitive, and plunges three fingers into Max, who screams as Yunho aims straight for his prostate. His other hand wraps around Max’s cock, pumping furiously, until the other man goes completely rigid, before spilling over, painting them both with his cum. Yunho groans, leaning forward to lightly suck the swollen head for every last drop, until Max squirms away, breathing hard.

They spend a few minutes in quiet bliss, basking in the afterglow of orgasm, when Max’s stomach rumbles, the sound louder than usual in the quiet office.

“My secretary left some food in the fridge, feel free to help yourself before you leave.” Yunho tells him, straightening his clothes and heading back to his desk.

“Thank you,” Max murmurs, sounding sleepy. He cleans up and pulls on his boxers before heading to the fridge, taking out a tray of sushi. “You’re not having any?”

“I don’t have time to eat,” Yunho says, re-organising the papers on his desk. “I was supposed to finish this before. But I was, ah, distracted, shall we say.” He looks up when Max doesn’t reply, finding the other man staring at him with an unreadable expression. It’s gone in an instant, and Max walks over, dropping the sushi onto his desk and balancing himself on Yunho’s lap.

“You can eat whilst you work. I’ll feed you, so all you have to do is open your mouth,” Max says softly, running his fingers down Yunho’s tie, smiling a little at the innuendo. Yunho frowns, a little confused.

“I don’t pay you to feed me, Max. Don’t feel obliged to,” he tells him, copping a feel just because he could. Max gives a quiet chuckle, kisses his ear.

“Consider this on the house,” he suggests, and twists around so he can open the tray of sushi, taking a bite of chilled salmon and seasoned rice before popping the rest into Yunho’s mouth. It’s rather nice, Yunho finds, and allows Max to feed him, in nothing but his boxers, sprawled across his lap, as he finishes up his paperwork. It takes another thirty minutes to complete, and by then, the clock on his desk reads 10pm.

“I should go,” Max sighs, leaving him to pull on the rest of his clothes. “I need to be up early.”

“I only told you to come around in the evening,” Yunho frowns, annoyed when Max gives a little laugh.

“You’re not my only client, Yunho,” he says, brushing out the wrinkles from his jacket. A bubble of jealously grows, bursting when Max says this so casually, as if Jung Yunho would allow his things to be _shared._

“Forget him. Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it,” he promises, crossing the room to come face to face with Max. “Name a price and I’ll see to it. I want you exclusively.”

Max blinks, as if surprised. “That’s not the way it works. My clients are important people.” He hesitates, before continuing, “Jaejoong likes to have a variety of connections. Does this surprise you?”

Yunho scowls, because really, it doesn’t. The name Jaejoong was well known within the circles of the rich and powerful, though of course no one ever acknowledged it. Still, he can’t help but be irritated that he can’t have Max to himself. Not even his vast wealth could change that. His feelings must show, because Max steps close, right into his space, grasping his hips so they grind against each other in a slow dance.

“I suppose I could always make an exception,” he suggests, nibbling a sensitive spot on Yunho’s neck. “Would you like that?”

“What’s in it for you?” Yunho asks, suspicious. No matter how extensive his bank account was, he had a limit. But Max simply loops his arms around his neck and places a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Take me out for dinner.”

“Dinner?” Yunho repeats, bewildered. “We’re not a couple.”

“There’s a new restaurant I want to try out,” Max says. “The Moroccan one, have you heard of it? You have to book a least a month in advance. Actually, there are a lot of places I want to try out. If you want me exclusively, then in return, I want you to take me there.”

“I see,” Yunho says, understanding dawning. So Max wanted to live out the high life, making the most of Yunhos’ wealth and connections. Well, that was easily arranged, and in exchange for having Max all to himself, Yunho considered it rather a good deal. “Very well. I’ll meet you outside the restaurant tomorrow at 7pm.”

“Tomorrow?” Max repeats, eyes wide. “But-”

“Do you really doubt the power I have in social circles, Max?” Yunho smiles the same way he smiles when he’s in the middle of a business presentation: polite enough to charm potential clients, but with little warmth to let them feel intimidated.

“No, of course not,” Max murmurs.

“It’s decided, then,” Yunho smirks, confident with his control once more.

*

“For God’s sakes, leave my face alone, will you?” Changmin snaps, nerves frazzled. Jaejoong huffs in annoyance, but puts the eyeliner pencil back onto the dresser table.

“This is going to be an important dinner, Changmin,” he says. “You need to look good.”

“He’s fucked me every day for a week since we met,” Changmin replies coolly. “I don’t think I need to worry about how I look.”

“And he lets you kiss him with that filthy mouth.”

“Shut up. And stop fussing, I know what I’m doing.”

“You always say that, cousin dear, but don’t forget who saved you all those years ago. You owe me.”

Changmin freezes. “I’m well aware of that, cousin _dear_ ,” he mocks. “I’ll find out where he keeps the documents. And don’t _you_ forget, once this is all over, my debt is clear.”

“Understood,” Jaejoong replies, leaning back against the dresser. “You must be keen to get this over and done with.”

Changmin scoffs. “It’s almost too easy. Poor little rich kid yearning for the love he’s never experienced before. All I have to do is mollycoddle him and he’ll give me everything we need.”

*

The restaurant is vast, luxuriously decorated with a nod to Moroccan décor. It’s subtle enough to be tasteful, rather than gaudy, and Changmin breathes in the tantalising smell of various spices wafting in from the dining area to where he stands in the lobby, as Yunho talks quietly to the waiter.

“This way,” the staff member bows a little- they’re still in Korea, after all- and leads them to what must be the private dining area for the rich and powerful; too important to dine with everyone else. They’re seated outside on a wide balcony, overlooking the city, but several screens are erected to give them a decent amount of privacy from the tall buildings that surround them. Their chairs are placed on the adjacent angles of the table, rather than opposite one another. Changmin makes a mental note to make the most of this more intimate seating arrangement.

 “Beautiful,” he can’t help but admire everything so far.

“Do you like it?” Yunho asks, looking pleased as Changmin nods immediately.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, sending a heated gaze at Yunho. He would lean across to kiss the other man, but there are several waiters bustling about, lighting the candles on their table and setting plates and cutlery. “Do you want to order? I’m not familiar with Moroccan food,” Changmin confesses, triumph blossoming in his chest as Yunho smiles indulgently and begins ordering from the menu. Left with a rare moment to himself, Changmin steadies his nerves by breathing in deeply. Yunho had only been his client for a week, nowhere near long enough to ensure the businessman was wrapped entirely around his little finger. But there was no other option. Tonight they would be having dinner, and unless Yunho was into public sex, that meant he had a chance to really converse with the other man. He had been meaning to try and extract information when he’d been summoned to Yunho’s office last night- a golden opportunity, where he could have casually asked about his work without raising suspicion. But who the hell knew Yunho would bind and gag him, left on the brink of orgasm for almost two hours, leaving him barely coherent, let alone able to investigate. Afterwards, he had deliberately placed himself on Yunho’s lap as he had worked, but the paperwork Yunho had been sorting through were nothing of importance- nothing Jaejoong would be interested in, anyway. His heart stutters as the image of his older cousin comes to mind, and Changmin tries not to panic. A month he had promised, and a month he would have to deliver results. God knows what would happen to him should he fail. He was bound to Jaejoong by blood, but even stronger was the bond of debt that ensured he could not afford to see his cousin’s wrath, something Jaejoong would not hesitate to unleash.

“Max? Did you hear me?” Yunho’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “I asked if you have any allergies.”

“Sorry, I was distracted,” Changmin drags himself away from his thoughts, and smiles. “But, no, I’m fine with everything.”

Yunho nods, curtly to the waiter, who picks up their menus and leaves, clicking the doors to the balcony shut. There’s a gauzy drape across the glass doors, leaving the interior of the restaurant partially concealed from them. Through the doors, the slight hum of conversation and clinking of plates could be heard. It was slightly darker outside where they sat, and in addition to the screens that hid them from the outside world, Changmin was sure no one could see or hear them unless they decided to join them on the balcony. He’s left alone with Yunho, and it makes him shiver a little.

“You’re very thoughtful,” he tells the older man. “Asking after my allergies, I mean.”

Yunho raises an eyebrow. “Is this not common decency? You asked me to order, the least I can do is make sure you’re able to eat the food.”

“I’m not used to people looking out for me, that’s all,” Changmin shrugs. “It doesn’t usually come hand in hand with my business.”

“I see,” Yunho replies. “And are you settling well into the business? I was informed you were new, after all.”

“I consider myself very lucky,” Changmin smiles slowly. He says it to inflate Yunho’s ego, but it’s also the truth. Dozens of young men like him were out on the streets this very moment, emaciated and disease-ridden, yet here he was: healthy and clean from the toxins he used to push into his body. Perhaps a step up into high-class prostitution wasn’t something to brag about, but it was an elevation nonetheless.

“You look good tonight,” Yunho tells him, eyes roaming over the tight muscles of the younger man. “I like how covered up you are in your suit. No one else here knows what you look like underneath. Only me.”

_How can you be so sure?_ Changmin wants to mock, but he smiles flirtatiously, curving his body in a flattering angle to present himself most effectively. “Only you,” he agrees.

Yunho opens his mouth to say something, but a quiet knock on the glass doors interrupts them, as a waiter steps out onto the balcony to serve their food. It turns out Yunho has ordered almost everything off the menu: a couple of bowls of soup, some pan fried butterfly sardines with a serving of sauce, a platter of mixed hors d’ouvres, and a host of other dishes Changmin wasn’t familiar with. It smells incredible, and his mouth waters. The waiter pours Yunho a little wine to taste, and when Yunho nods his approval, he pours Changmin a glass as well, before leaving.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a bit of everything,” Yunho shrugs casually, in response to the dazed expression that surely must be showing on Changmin’s face. “You don’t need to eat everything, just what you like.”

They begin to eat, the food tasting as delicious as it had smelled.

“Oh, this is amazing,” Changmin groans, picking at a plate of calamari, seasoned with lime and herbs. The lightly fried squid ring slips off his fork, and he tries to stab it, unsuccessfully.

“Did you know in Morocco, they traditionally eat with their fingers? Use your thumb and first two fingers only. Any more is considered a show of greed.” Yunho reaches across to take Changmin’s fork. “It’s only the two of us. Feel free to eat comfortably.”

“How do you know so much about Moroccan dining etiquette?” Changmin asks, popping the calamari into his mouth and licking the sauce off his fingers.

“I stayed there for a few months on a business trip several years ago. I was rather young at the time, so I wasn’t entrusted with too much responsibility. It left me with a great deal of time to learn about the local culture.”

“You must be very well-travelled.”

“I consider myself so, yes.” Yunho agrees, leaving his cutlery on the table to eat with his fingers as well. “Most of my business is centred around Asia, but occasionally we venture outside when necessary.”

_Now’s your chance._

“Oh?” Changmin asks, heart pounding. “Will you be taking any business trips anytime soon, then?”

“I have a trip scheduled to China next month, actually,” Yunho informs him.

“I’ve never been to China before.”

“If that was a hint, I’m telling you now: you can’t come with me, Max. I go abroad to work, not for holidays.” Yunho says sharply.

“It wasn’t,” Changmin says quickly, smiling until Yunho relaxes a little. “I was merely making conversation. You work so hard, do you not leave yourself a little time to have fun?”

“I’m having fun now,” Yunho grins wickedly, and the sight is so unexpected that Changmin can’t help but laugh a little, some of the tension leaving his body.

“I’m glad to be of assistance,” he smiles. “I will miss you when you leave for China.”

“I pay you enough that you can last without me for a week or so,” Yunho says drily.

Changmin widens his eyes; an expression he had practiced often enough to know how it showcased a display of youthful innocence. “Is that what you think I mean?”

“What else could you possibly mean?”

“It’s true that you pay me for… pleasure. But I do quite enjoy our company together, you know.”

Yunho stops eating then, looking stunned for a moment, before a carefully guarded expression settles over his face. “You… really mean that?”

“Of course,” Changmin replies, a knot growing in his stomach. Yunho avoids his gaze, staring at his food. _How lonely was your life Yunho?_ Changmin wonders. _How isolated were you that you’re so taken aback that even someone like me could enjoy spending time with you?_ He hesitates a little, wondering if his next move would step over the fragile line they had shakily established. But Yunho seems lost to his thoughts, so Changmin reaches across their table; tentatively holds his hand. Yunho gives a start, looking up in surprise.

“You… are not what I expected,” he says eventually, turning his palm upwards against Changmin’s.

They stay like that, hands loosely grasped, even as the waiters come in to take away their plates and lay down dessert. Again, it seems Yunho has ordered most of the sweets available, most of which Changmin has never seen before.

“Ossmallieh,” Yunho introduces, pulling the dish closer. “Vermicelli topped with cream cheese, rosewater, syrup and pistachios. And this one: Mouhallabieh, a Lebanese milk pudding. And my personal favourite, baklawa: sweet pastries filled with nuts and rosewater syrup.”

“Yunho… this is too much food. We can’t possibly finish it!”

“It doesn’t matter. Try a bite of each one. As long as you like it, then it’s worth it.” He scoops a little of the milk pudding and holds out his spoon, expectant. Like a baby bird, Changmin holds his mouth open, allowing the other man to feed him. Yunho moans softly as his wraps his lips around the utensil.

“I thought the Moroccan way of eating is to use your fingers?” Changmin smiles. He makes sure to suck and nip lightly at Yunho’s fingertips as he’s fed a piece of baklawa. As it turns out, the dessert is rather chewy, so his attempt at seduction ends humiliatingly quickly as he almost chokes on the sticky treat.

“Here, have some water,” Yunho laughs, thumping his back, as Changmin blushes furiously. “Take your time eating; rich desserts should be savoured.” He smiles suddenly. “Much like you.”

His voice is gentle and kind, and for a moment, it feels almost like a date; Yunho behaving like the perfect gentlemen. But they are anything but a couple, Changmin reminds himself harshly. He’s a paid whore, and his job was to find out more about Yunho’s work in China and utterly destroy him. It sinks in then, the extent of his future betrayal: he will make Yunho fall for him, and when the moment is most opportune, he will crush the other man and leave him to the wolves. Looking at Yunho’s kind smile, the older man looks content and relaxed, enjoying his time with Changmin.

One month, he had said. He had but a few weeks left to finish his work- every second spent with the older man should be used to try and extract any relevant information- and yet-

“Well, if it doesn’t kill you it makes a good story,” Yunho is saying, as Changmin finishes his water. He wipes his mouth, and edges closer, a hand on Yunho’s knee.

“Then let’s not talk anymore,” he whispers, and presses forward until their lips are crushed together, any words lost between the tangle of their tongues.

_Just this once. Let me have this evening with him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A minor detail: I'm not actually too familiar with Moroccan cuisine and its dining etiquette, so if I got it wrong don't hold it against me :3
> 
> Thank you for reading! Apologies for not replying to everyone who commented last chapter, I'll try to reply properly from now on >_


	3. Chapter 3

“Yoona?” Yunho calls one of his three PA’s. She comes hurrying over, a notebook and pen already in hand. “Cancel my dinner with Mr Han tonight. I’m busy.”

“Mr Han of _Han Industries_?” Yoona clarifies. “But- it’s an important dinner, you’re due to meet him next month in China to confirm our company merger. Now’s the only chance you’ll have to make a good impression!”

“I’ve already smiled and flattered him for months now,” Yunho snaps. “I’m sick of it. The merger’s sure to go through, just tell him I can’t make it tonight.”

“Sir-” Yoona stops talking as Yunho sends her a glare. She hesitates a little, clearly uncomfortable with what she really wants to say. Yunho raises an eyebrow, daring. “Are you seeing... _him_ again?” Her voice is low, respectful. “I know it’s none of my business, but… you haven’t been concentrating on work as much as you used to. Ever since… well, _Max_.”

His name sounds foreign from her tongue, the way Yoona whispers it as if Max was the name of some contagious, highly undesirable disease. Yunho freezes, humiliation burning in his gut. He stares back at her coolly, until Yoona ducks her head, looking horrified.

“I’m sorry! I didn't mean-”

“You’re right,” Yunho tells her, and her jaw falls open. “It’s _none of your business_.” She blushes furiously, mumbling apologies and stumbles back to her desk. Left alone, Yunho leaves his office, taking sharp strides until he makes his way down to the carpark. With such a busy lifestyle, he required three PA’s and two secretaries to manage everything he had on schedule. As the team leader, Yoona’s job was to know every single appointment he kept, including the hours he reserved for… extra-curricular activity. And her salary was more than enough that Yunho had no need to tell her to keep quiet about it. In fact, she had never mentioned anything about his additional hobbies before, always turning a blind eye and leaving him free to pursue whatever he wanted without having to answer awkward questions.

But for whatever reason, Yoona had deemed it necessary to bring up Max. It was true that he’d spent a lot of time with the other man. But that was simply holding up his end of the bargain. In the past week or so, he’d taken Max out to every exclusive club and restaurant the younger man had wanted to try out, and in return had some of the most mind-blowing sex he’d ever experienced in his life. Not only that, but Max genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time together with him, not like all the other whores that had buttered him up with the right words and smiles, then left the second Yunho handed over a paycheque. They certainly weren’t a couple, but there was no reason they couldn’t enjoy each other’s company either. He thinks back to the dinner he’s supposed to have tonight. Mr Han, an important client, was visiting Korea for a few days- the only time in his schedule to meet with Yunho, and he was cancelling it just to see Max. Was Yoona right? Was he really losing focus at work because of the other man? It’s not the first time he’s cancelled a business dinner before, so why was Yoona so concerned?

He’s so lost in thought that Yunho almost doesn’t see the tall figure leaning against his car, a few grocery bags by his feet.

“Hello,” Max purrs. “Did I surprise you?”

“Max?” Yunho can’t help but smile as the younger man grabs his tie to pull him closer for a kiss. “How did you know this was my car? You haven’t seen it before,” he asks as they pull apart.

“It was quite obvious,” Max says, gesturing to the luxurious model Yunho drives, compared to the other common vehicles parked nearby. “You told me you liked expensive things.”

“True,” Yunho admits. “Where do you want to go tonight? I know there’s an exclusive art gallery opening later. I have a friend of a friend who’s sure to let us in-”

“Actually,” Max interrupts. “I was thinking we could eat in tonight.” He nudges the shopping bags with his feet. “I can cook for you. As a thank you. I’m a decent cook, you know.”

“As a thank you?” Yunho asks, thinking. Surely if Max owed him a debt, he wouldn’t have forgotten it? He must be getting slow.

“For taking me to all these amazing places, Yunho,” Max explains, chuckling at his bemused expression. “It’s the least I can do, right?”

“But… I thought the deal was I get to have you exclusively.”

“It _is_. I’m just cooking for you because I want to. Say thank you, I mean.”

It’s rare that Yunho is left speechless, but it only takes a few seconds for him to regain his composure. “R-right. As you wish.” He gestures at the grocery bags. “So, where do you live?”

Max bites his lip, looking uncharacteristically doubtful. “Actually, I was thinking we could go to yours? I mean, my apartment’s tiny and the walls are really thin and you can hear my neighbours screaming all the time. I thought your place would be nicer?”

Yunho chuckles as he unlocks his car to load the groceries into the backseat. “You don’t have to look so terrified. My place is fine.”

“Really?” Max exclaims as they clamber into the car. His mouth falls open at the sight of the sleek leather seating and the quiet purr as the engine starts. Yunho isn’t accustomed to other people in his car, but he feels smug at Max’s reaction, in a chauvinistic, show-off kind of way, grateful once more for his impeccable taste.

He pulls up to his hotel, stepping out to toss his keys to the waiting valet, positively drooling at the chance to drive his car. Max follows him in, looking confused.

“You live in a hotel?”

“This hotel belonged to my father. Now it belongs to me. I live in an apartment within the building.” Yunho explains, as they ride the private lift to his living quarters. It’s been a while since he’s come back- in fact, the last time he was here, he’d trashed the whole room in a rage after the last boy had tried to steal his watch. He hopes the refurbishment has been completed by now.

“How can you talk so casually?” Max demands, eyes wide with disbelief, as Yunho unlocks the door, revealing the spacious room within. To his relief, the apartment is fully refurbished, the walls gleaming with a fresh coat of paint. He notes that they really had upgraded the décor of the bar; painted a sleek dark brown with golden trimming, it looks sophisticated and modern. Suddenly he’s self-conscious, hyper aware of his apartment: from the modern paintings he has hanging on the walls to the wide sofa that sprawls out in the middle of the living room, and the television mounted on the wall opposite. Would Max think it was too much? Yunho was wealthy, of course, but money couldn’t buy taste.

But Max is staring around in amazement, ducking in and out of the large rooms, exclaiming in excitement. “Do you like it?” he asks. For some reason, his stomach is knotted with anxiety. He wants to see Max impressed, the same way he had acted when he has stepped into Yunho’s car earlier.

“Like it? I _love_ it! Your place is so beautiful,” Max sighs. He lifts his head to meet Yunho’s gaze, eyes shining. “You’re so lucky.”

“Do you want to see my walk-in closet?” Yunho smiles, relaxing as Max nods eagerly. Confidence returning, he strides across to his room, opening the double doors that lead to his collection of attire. They’re mostly suits, but he has a rack of mostly unworn casual clothing, but these were all branded, of course. Max runs his fingers through the layers of silk and leather, leafs through the crisply folded shirts and inspects the wall of sharp business shoes.

“God, I’m so sorry. I promised you dinner, and here I am nosing through your stuff,” Max shakes his head in apology, taking Yunho’s elbow and leading them to the kitchen. “I hope Korean food isn’t too… pedestrian.”

“I haven’t had Korean food in a long while,” Yunho muses, plopping down at the kitchen table.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Max chides, forcing him to his feet again. “Help me wash and peel the vegetables at least.” Yunho grumbles, but concedes to helping the younger man. It’s rather enjoyable, he finds, doing such a mundane task as making dinner. Yunho has no idea how to cook, so he follows Max’s instructions, fretting as he cuts a carrot into small strips. By the time they’re finished, the table is laden with home food, the smell of barbequed meat and spices warming the normally cold kitchen.

“Let’s eat!” Max exclaims, smiling. “I hope this tastes alright,” he mutters, almost to himself, as he scoops warm rice into a couple of bowls. The food can’t be compared to the Michelin-star worthy dishes they’d sampled the past several days, but even so, Yunho thinks he prefers Max’s cooking. Max snorts in scepticism when he tells him.

“You’re just saying that,” he laughs. “But thank you anyway.”

The domestic scene is odd; Yunho is much more accustomed to wolfing down a few bites of food his secretary had bought him, seated at his office desk. But with Max sitting next to him, chattering in between mouthfuls of rice, Yunho thinks it’s something he’d like to get used to. It’s pleasant company, he tells himself. Anyone would choose good conversation over a lonely takeout at their office desk, after all.

“What are you thinking about?” Max asks, smiling over the rim of his glass. “You’re completely zoned out. Did I bore you?” he teases.

“I was thinking that I’d like to do this again,” Yunho says without thinking. The smile on Max’s face slips a little. “Don’t worry, I’ll still take you to the places you want to go, I just think a home-cooked dinner would be enjoyable once in a while. It’s probably not good for our digestive systems to eat rich foods all the time.” He’s talking too fast, the excuses falling from his lips sounding pathetic, even to his own ears.

Max is silent, considering. Finally he meets Yunho’s eyes. “I’d like that.”

Yunho clears his throat, but finds that he doesn’t really have anything to say. 

“Let’s clear the dishes,” Max murmurs. In amicable silence, they load the dishwasher, tossing away any leftover scraps of food. Finally the table is wiped clean, and they stand in the kitchen, awkwardness finally settling in.

“Well, what should we do now?” Max smiles, coming closer.

Yunho smiles, a little relieved. “Oh, I don’t know. Any ideas?”

“One or two,” Max whispers, and they kiss. It’s sweet and without any of the heat that usually fuels their kisses. It’s slow, thoughtful, as if Max has his mind on something else. It wades into unfamiliar territory, and Yunho doesn’t like it. He pushes his tongue into Max’s mouth, deepening their kiss until Max moans softly against his lips.

“Bedroom,” he mumbles, and they stagger back, stealing kisses here and there until Yunho can push the younger man back against mattress. Arousal builds, his body warming, but suddenly Max is squirming away, a hand on his chest.

“Wait, wait,” he pants. Yunho pauses, confused as Max blushes. “I- I don’t think I can tonight. I’m still sore from… the rest of the week.”

“My apologies,” Yunho draws away, about to call it a night, but Max tugs at his arm until he’s lying on top of him again.

“I didn’t say we couldn’t do _anything,_ ” he grins wickedly, reaching to pull off Yunho’s shirt.

“You have very quick hands,” he observes.

“They’re going to be very slow on you,” Max whispers, and Yunho shivers at the promise. “Yunho,” he asks, rolling them over so Max is on top. “Are you a virgin?”

Yunho raises his eyebrows. “Obviously not.”

“You know what I mean.”

Oh.

“I- I prefer not to,” he admits. Max gazes at him.

“Would you like to try?”

This is completely unchartered territory. Yunho has always topped before, and no one had ever questioned it- although to be fair, most of his sexual partners hadn’t been in the position to question, as long as Yunho was paying. But Max wasn’t forcing him, or even judging him for it- he simply asked for permission, with the quiet promise to stop if he didn’t like it. Odd that something so small should have such an impact.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. “I think I want to, but- I don’t think I could.”

“If you want me to stop, then tell me,” Max suggests. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I just want to make you feel good.”

“Thank you,” Yunho breathes.

Max smiles. “Trust me,” he whispers, and Yunho does.

He has no words, so he brings Max’s face down so they can kiss. Something changes then- Yunho let’s go of his normal control, allowing himself to follow the younger man in their love-making.

_Love-making._ How had this word come to mind? Yunho wasn’t a boyfriend, he was a client- nothing more. But the word fits, somehow, as Max strokes him to full hardness, murmuring soft words of reassurance.

“Yunho,” he breathes, bringing a pillow down. “Lift your hips for me?”

Yunho gulps as he obliges, fisting the sheets to steady his nerves. He’s never done this before, and never had the intention to, but with Max, it doesn’t seem so bad. He groans softly as Max wraps his lips around his cock, tracing the head with his tongue. The pillow beneath his hips elevates him, and he tries to thrust, but Max grazes his teeth in warning, as he reaches for a bottle of lube.

Yunho sucks in a breath as slick fingers press against his hole, gently massaging. He tries to relax as best as he can, but it’s undeniably a foreign experience.

“Max,” he pants, as a finger is gently worked inside of him.

“Relax,” the younger man murmurs against his hip. His finger is slowly joined by another, twisting in a maddening circle. His cock twitches at the gentle ministrations, even as it burns. Yunho lets out a puff of air, trying to relax, and unsure if he wanted Max to keep going or stop.

“You’re so tight,” Max murmurs, sounding pleased. He laps at the precome that’s slowly oozing out from the tip of his cock as he pushes in another finger.

“Fuck, Max- I don’t know-” Yunho gasps, as he feels the fingers inside him move in a scissoring action, loosening the rings of muscle. Max lifts himself up to plant delicate kisses along his jaw, his neck, his mouth, whispering small words of reassurance. His other hand works itself around Yunho’s cock, pumping steadily.

It’s a distraction, Yunho realises, just as Max crooks the fingers inside him, and he cries out, hips jerking. Lightening seems to go through him, a delicious wash of arousal that starts from Max’s fingertips and pours into the rest of his body. Max smiles in triumph, and presses his fingers hard, against the sensitive bundles of nerves inside him, again and again, until Yunho is shuddering, thrashing about on the crumpled bedsheets.

“Tell me what you feel, Yunho.”

“I- God, it’s- I can’t!”

“Tell me,” Max demands, slender fingers twisting mercilessly in his ass, on his cock, and _God,_ it’s almost too much-

“Oh, Max” he gasps. “So good, pl- I need-”

He almost begs. Laid naked and vulnerable, Yunho has absolutely no control here, his pleasure just out of reach, at the mercy of the younger man.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“ _God,_ no, fuck you-”

“You’ve done that enough this week,” Max chuckles throatily. “Come for me, Yun. Let me see you.”

His voice is low, soft; like molten chocolate, lips parted as he whisper’s Yunho’s name. That’s what finally tips him over the edge: _Yun._ As if they were lovers sharing a bed, as if Max won’t leave as soon as Yunho pays.

“ _Ah_ ,” Yunho cries out as orgasm rips through him, moaning Max’s name over and over again until his voice is hoarse. With a strangled cry, Max removes his fingers, hurriedly unzipping himself to work at his own cock.

“Fuck, yes, you’re beautiful, oh, Yun-”

“Come on me,” Yunho gasps, trailing his hands up the smooth muscled thighs of the other man. And Max does, spurting his come all over Yunho’s chest and his abs. He moans softly at the sensation, and flops back onto the mattress, exhausted. Vaguely, he can hear Max leaving him to retrieve a flannel from the en-suite bathroom, before coming back to clean him up. He should really get up for his wallet, but Max is softly whispering to him, kissing him softly on the lips.

“Go to sleep,” he murmurs.

“I should pay you,” Yunho mumbles, cracking an eye open at Max, who’s tucked into his side, a warm anchor.

“I’ll still be here when you wake up,” Max promises, and his face is the last thing Yunho sees before drifting off to sleep, a smile on his lips.

*

When he wakes, the space beside him on the bed is empty. It’s certainly not the first time this has happened, but Yunho feels uncomfortable, as if something vital has been taken away from him.

“Max?” he calls softly, looking to the en-suite. The door is open, and no sounds are coming out. Yunho gets to his feet, wrapping the bedsheet around himself to investigate. The bathroom is empty, so he walks out into the living space, which yields similar results.

The apartment is mostly open-plan, so with a single sweep he can see that Max isn’t on the sofa watching TV, or making a drink in the kitchen. With a frown, Yunho turns to his office, the only room besides the bathroom and bedroom to have a door.

What on earth would Max be doing in his office? He’d never shown an interest in his work before. His gut clenches uneasily, pushing away the thoughts that immediately enter his mind, even as he reaches for the door handle to step inside.

Max is seated at his desk, bare feet propped up on an ottoman, absorbed in reading a poetry book that Yunho has once received as a gift, but never actually read before. He looks up as Yunho enters, blushing a little and straightening up.

“Yunho!” He exclaims.

“What are you doing in my office, Max?” Yunho asks, voice hard. His eyes sweep over the desk and filing cabinets, but everything looks untouched, except for the bookcase, which Max must have rifled through.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep, and I thought the television might wake you up,” Max says, getting to his feet. “I just wanted to read a book to pass the time by.”

His heartbeat slows back to its normal rate, and he feels like an idiot. Just a book. What else could there be?

“I’m sorry, Yunho,” Max is saying. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts, coming closer so he can wrap Max into his arms. The younger man hums in pleasure, burying himself into the layers of bedsheet Yunho has wrapped around them both. “You can keep the book if you’d like.”

“Really?” Max perks up.

“I’ve never read it anyway,” Yunho confesses. “You can tell me what it’s about.”

“That’s just lazy,” Max scolds lightly. “You should stop working so much and enjoy a book once in a while, you know. It’s good for the brain.”

“Work is good for the brain, too,” Yunho argues, sinking down to the deskchair and pulling Max into his lap.

“How can it be good for you when you’re working non-stop? You work enough at the office, which is bad enough, and then you take it home to keep working here as well.”

“I promise I don’t,” Yunho laughs. It was rather endearing, the way Max chides him. _He really does care about me._ “I only use this apartment when I need a place to crash. All my work-related documents are either kept at the office or at home.”

“Home?” Max repeats. “This isn’t your home?”

“Like I said,” Yunho explains. “This belonged to my father. I just preserve it so I can keep an eye on the hotel management, as well as sleeping here if I need to. I have another flat in the city when I need a place to work that isn’t the company office.”

“Two apartments,” Max clarifies, voice neutral. “One to sleep in, and one to work in.” His body is tense, and Yunho realises how silly he must have sounded, like a spoiled brat complaining about having too many material goods.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to brag,” he murmurs, kissing Max’s temple.

Max relaxes against him. “Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs. “I just want you to take a break in a while, that’s all. Can you promise me that?”

“Anything for you,” Yunho whispers, and as he says it, he knows it’s true. Max smiles, leaning down to kiss him softly, as if they have all the time in the world.

Yunho tightens his arms around the other man, unwilling to let go. He’s repeated to himself over and over again that they weren’t boyfriends, that he was just a client. But with Max in his arms, it’s hard not to think in any other way.

“Yunho,” Max breathes against his lips. “I really like you.”

“I really like you too,” Yunho confesses, heart swelling. It’s an honest confession; an admission he can say again and again safely. He truly does like Max, even if his heart is telling him it might be something more.

*

It’s the early hours of the morning by the time Changmin makes his way from the hotel, promising Yunho that a friend was giving him a lift home. Instead, he heads towards a familiar neighbourhood, his gut churning as he walks down the streets he used to live on.

Whisked away into Yunho’s world of luxury and money, he’d almost forgotten the hard ways of his past, but it all comes rushing back to him now: the corner where he first made some money giving head, an alleyway where he would beg for his dealer to give him one more hit. And over there, the street where Jaejoong had finally found him, over-dosed and close to death, before plucking him from this God-forsaken life and offering him a fresh start.

He owed his cousin everything. And Jaejoong wanted Yunho destroyed.

When he’d first heard his cousin’s plans, Changmin had agreed whole-heartedly, eager to wipe his slate clean and remove his debt. As much of an improvement Jaejoong had made on his life, he didn’t want to be a whore forever. He wanted to go to university, to study and make a name for himself. Yunho was some spoilt, faceless moron standing in between him and his goals. He was supposed to be an arrogant, cold-hearted asshole that deserved to be ruined. Instead Changmin had found a lonely boy trapped in a man’s body, yearning for company and love; certainly not perfect, but Changmin couldn’t bear to crush him.

And with less than two weeks before his deadline, Changmin was swiftly running out of options.

It takes a while, but he finally manages to track down the person he’s looking for.

Heechul is thinner now, more than ever, a cigarette dangling from his lips and he makes his way home, pocket full of soiled notes. With delicate features and slim physique, he could almost pass as a female, if it weren’t for his flat chest and broader shoulders. He stops in amazement as he spots Changmin, the cigarette falling comically to the floor as his jaw hangs open.

“Changmin!” he exclaims. “I thought you were dead! What the fuck are you doing back here?” He rushes forward and crushes the younger man in his arms.

“Hyung,” Changmin greets him, hugging the older man close. When he lived on the streets, Changmin had once saved him from a particularly vicious client. Since then, Heechul had vowed to protect him, and now, Changmin would see if his hyung was true to his word. “I need your help.”


	4. Chapter 4

The kitchenette in Changmin’s apartment is so small that there’s no room for a table and chairs. Instead, he and Heechul are seated cross-legged on the floor, a pot of cold tea and a plate of untouched snacks between them. Though his drink has cooled, Heechul grips the mug between his hands tightly, as if still searching for the warmth that has long gone.

“So you’re telling me,” Heechul says slowly. “All these years I thought you were dead from an overdose or some godforsaken accident- when in reality, you were taken from the streets by your cousin who helped you get clean, and in the meantime he’s groomed you into being a prostitute to seduce one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in South Korea.”

His voice is faint with disbelief.

“Pretty much,” Changmin admits, feeling sick at hearing it out loud.

“And you want me to help you,” Heechul states, shaking his head as Changmin bites his lip guiltily.

“Hyung, _please_ ,” he begs. “I’m desperate. What Jaejoong’s planning- it would ruin Yunho. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“I promised I would help you Changmin, and believe me, I would. But what the hell can I do in this situation? I have no useful contacts, no money, nothing,” Heechul says miserably.

Changmin sighs in resignation. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he’d gone looking for Heechul- maybe hoping for some kind of miracle. But the truth was that Heechul was just another whore off the streets- not fit for the social circles that Yunho walked in.

“I’m sorry, Changmin, but I really don’t know how to help you,” Heechul whispers.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” Changmin tells him, trying to smile reassuringly, but it comes out as more of a grimace. “Maybe I’ll tell Jaejoong I can’t do this.”

“He won’t be happy.”

“I have to try.”

“Alright. I guess I should go,” Heechul sighs. Changmin reaches across to grasp his arm.

“No hyung, you can stay here. Just… for company, you know?”

Heechul opens his mouth to argue, but perhaps Changmin’s desperation was showing on his face, because he simply nods.

*

The restaurant Jaejoong has chosen is a homey Korean one, run by an older couple and their teenage kids. He’s seated at the back, legs crossed on the already flat cushion that’s provided to relieve customers of the hard wooden floor. Besides him, there’s another man, dressed in a sharp suit, although the collar is loosened and his jacket lies folded on the floor. They’re engaged in deep conversation, and only look up when Changmin approaches them, clearing his throat nervously.

“Jaejoong,” he greets his cousin, then bows to the other man. “Mr Choi.”

Siwon smiles charmingly, dipping his head in polite response. “Changmin. Please, have a seat. We were just talking about you.”

“Only good things, I hope,” Changmin murmurs. He glances at the food, warm and comforting, wanting to take a bite. But the table is set for two, and when a waitress comes over with an extra set of chopsticks, Jaejoong waves her away.

“I was telling Siwon here how we were putting the final stages of the plan into action,” Jaejoong tells him.

“Everything seems to be running smoothly,” Siwon says. “When it’s finished, Jaejoong, I’ll give you everything you asked for- but only when it’s completed. Am I understood?”

“Of course,” Jaejoong replies silkily. His voice is soft, but Changmin can tell his cousin is annoyed at Siwon’s patronising tones. With a curt nod, Siwon, the CEO of Choi Corporations pulls on his jacket and makes to leave.

“What an arrogant bastard,” Jaejoong says mildly once he and Changmin are left alone. “Still, I won’t have to put up with him much longer. Did you see Yunho today?”

“Yesterday. I meeting him after this.”

“Alright. You went to his apartment. What else have you found out?”

“About that,” Changmin begins, heart pounding. He tries to steady his breathing as Jaejoong raises an eyebrow. “I went through his office, but he has nothing there. It’s just books and old files that are irrelevant to what you want.”

“What? Don’t be an idiot, if the contracts aren’t in his office, then they’ll be at his apartment. Are you fucking stupid?” Jaejoong’s face is twisted in a cruel sneer.

“He has two apartments. The one I went to is just for when he needs a place to get some rest that isn’t his office.”

“So why the fuck did you go there?” Jaejoong snarls, and Changmin suppresses a shiver.

“It’s not like I knew _before_. He only told me about the other apartment almost before I left. There was nothing I could do.”

“Nothing you could do?” Jaejoong scoffs. “For God’s sake, Changmin, we have less than a fortnight. Do I need to remind you what will happen to you if this doesn’t work?”

“I’m perfectly aware,” Changmin snaps, thinking of the huge debt he owes, as well as his passport and birth certificate locked away somewhere by his own cousin. “Listen,” he tries his luck. “What if we didn’t do this? Isn’t there some other way you could get the money?”

Jaejoong narrows his eyes. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve actually _fallen_ for that fool? A spoilt entitled brat who was born into a life of luxury- do you know how many of my boys he’s put out of work, Changmin? All for such petty reasons because he can’t have his way. I know it’s not like you to have standards, being a junkie prostitute, but I thought even _you_  wouldn’t have feelings for Jung.”

“I’m not a junkie,” Changmin snarls. “And it’s not like that. With Yunho.”

“You’re not a junkie _anymore_ ,” Jaejoong corrects dismissively. “And because of who? Because of me. I pulled you off those streets and got you clean. You owe me your fucking life.”

“What if I don’t want to do this anymore?”

“Don’t you dare back out of this, Changmin. If you think what I’m planning with Yunho is terrible, your fate will be far worse should you dare to anger me,” his cousin informs him, completely matter-of-fact about his threat. Changmin has no doubt that the other man would not hesitate to follow through with it, either. Whatever hope had started to grow inside him before, is abruptly crushed beneath the weight of Jaejoong’s promise.

“I understand,” he says quietly.

“You promised me a month,” Jaejoong says. His voice is utterly calm, but his lip curls in the beginnings of a cruel sneer.

“That was before I found out he has two flats,” Changmin replies, clenching his fists under the table. “It’ll take a little longer, but I’ll get it done.”

His cousin picks up a delicate slice of tofu with his chopsticks, the fragile morsel balanced perfectly in his grip. “I worry about how much longer this will take. We don’t have forever, and Yunho is unchanging as a rock.”

“Rocks can be worn down, Jaejoong. All it needs is time.”

Jaejoong laughs, a rough bark that grates his ears. “That’s my point exactly, cousin dear,” he says softly, dark eyes boring into Changmin’s. “The one thing we need, yet are running out of, is time.”

The tofu crumples under pressure, the chopsticks slicing it neatly in half. It fall and splatters onto the table, ruined.­­

*

It’s close to nine in the evening, and Yunho’s due to meet Max. Today had been an odd day. He’d finished up work at close to six pm- a full four hours before he usually left the office. Yoona had almost fainted in shock, going so far as to asking if he needed to book an appointment at the hospital. Instead, Yunho had hired a sleek town car that came with a personal chauffeur, and made plans for his evening with the younger man. First things first: pick him up.

Max is hanging outside Yunho’s hotel as per text instructions, looking rather confused, Yunho observes. It was rather endearing to see the look of surprise as the town car silently glides up beside him, and Yunho gets out to open the door for him.

“Yunho? What’s going on?” Max asks, looking delighted as he slips into the backseat, as Yunho follows.

“You’ll see. I have a surprise for you.”

The chauffeur drives them through the streets of Seoul, and Yunho reaches across the space between them, tugging Max towards him.

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about, then?” Max whispers, sliding in close, his breath landing hot all over Yunho’s face. He suppresses a shiver, letting out a soft moan as Max cups his erection, stroking the heel of his palm over the sensitive bulge.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” he smiles as Max pouts at him, the expression so exaggerated he can’t help but laugh.

“Then I’ll force you to tell me,” Max announces, straddling Yunho’s lap. He can see the surprised look on the chauffeur’s face in the rearview mirror.

“Driver, roll up the partition, please,” Max calls out, without taking his eyes off Yunho. Their driver stutters some phrase of obligation, and the partition whirs up, blocking his view. Yunho raises an eyebrow at the wickedly smiling man above him.

“I don’t want him seeing me on my knees,” Max purrs, sliding down to the floor.

“Oh shit,” Yunho gasps, spreading his legs as his zipper is pulled down. He’s reminded of the first time they had met, in this exact same position, how eager Max had been- how eager he is now. He fists his hands in Max’s hair as his cock is swallowed down, as the younger man moans around his length.

With a pop, Max releases him, blowing gently over the spit-slicked skin. Yunho twitches under the sensation, wanting to squirm away, but his hips are held down tightly.

“Are you going to tell me?” Max teases. With a frustrated groan, Yunho shakes his head, cock jerking as Max chuckles, low and throaty. “Guess I’ll have to work harder,” he murmurs, almost to himself, and works his way down Yunho’s shaft again.

“Ohhh fuck, yes, your mouth,” Yunho gasps, eyes closing and head falling back. He resists the urge to rut like an animal, mindful not to hurt the man under him. His trousers are still bunched around his thighs, the material digging into his flesh as he tries to spread his legs further apart. The slight suggestion of bondage seems to build his arousal even more, and he grips the base of his cock to stop himself going over too fast.

But Max is persistent, trying to bat away his hand, rolling his balls in his palm and tongue making maddening circles over the head of his cock. It takes effort, but Yunho manages to push him off, grabbing the younger man by the hips and tossing him face-first into the slick leather seating.

“This can’t be legal,” Max gasps into the armrest as Yunho tugs his pants down. “Yunho-ohhh _hhhh fuck_ ,” he ends his name on a moan as Yunho buries his face between those round ass cheeks, kneading the muscle until the skin blooms red. Max wails, thrusting back to fuck himself on Yunho’s tongue, and Yunho obliges, grazing his teeth across the delicate rim of his hole.

“Ohh, fuck, Yunho- need you,” Max whimpers, and Yunho is grateful for the wider backseat of the town car. He sits back onto his seat, pulling Max onto his lap, the younger man’s back resting against his chest. Max scrabbles to gain traction on the sweat-slick seating, but with Yunho under him, he can only plant his feet on the backseat, arms reaching up to grasp the headrest behind Yunho’s head as Yunho pushes into his hole, his own spit easing the way.

“So good,” Yunho pants, as he snaps his hips in a frantic rate into the other man. “You should see yourself, spread out like this, in this car. Good thing the windows are tinted. Imagine if they could see us now, hm?” He nips at Max’s ear, pleased when the other man yelps. “Imagine if I roll the windows down and everyone could see you getting fucked like this,” he growls into Max’s ears. “Your cock bouncing up and down and your legs spread because you can’t get a grip on the seating because I’m fucking you so hard. Would you like that? Would you like them to see?”

Max moans, shaking his head franticly. “Please, Yunho- I’m so close!”

“I love it when you beg,” Yunho bites down hard on a sensitive spot on Max’s neck, working the delicate flesh between his teeth. His hips thrust harder, hard enough to ensure he’ll be sore the next day, but it’s the least of his worries now. Max can barely talk anymore, just breathy exhales of air each time Yunho slams into him. Max’s walls seem to flutter around his length, and Yunho knows it’s time. He releases a hand from Max’s hips, reaching around to jerk the other man off. Max almost screams at the stimulation, letting go of the headrest and nearly falling to floor, when Yunho grabs him, tossing him over the seat and kneeling on the floor to continue working into him, his hand still determinedly working around Max’s cock, coaxing him closer, closer-

And Max goes absolutely rigid for a second, before his whole body shakes with orgasm, jerking back, hands and feet curling. Finally his mouth opens to the most gorgeous sounds Yunho has ever heard, his hips still instinctively working back to grind on Yunho’s cock. He leans forward to bite down on a mouthful of Max’s back, licking at the salty sweat that covers the other man.

“Yunho, Yun, come in me. Inside me,” Max is whispering, and Yunho cries out before emptying himself into the other man, gasping as Max softly moans his name.

They both collapse onto the floor of the still-moving car, and Max curls into his chest, breathing hard.

“How much of that do you think the driver heard?” he wonders out loud, as Yunho laughs.

“It doesn’t matter. He wouldn’t dare say anything.”

“Mm, I like it when you talk like that. So authoritative. It’s sexy,” Max trails a finger down his chest, eyes hooded with the remnants of lust.

“There’s cum all over the seating,” Yunho observes mildly.

“Just leave it,” Max giggles. “They wouldn’t dare say anything, right?”

“As you wish,” Yunho shakes his head, imagining the looks of horror on the faces of whoever would look inside the car next. They pull their clothes back on, straightening up as much as they could.

“I never did manage to get you to tell me the surprise,” Max says.

“Max, I-” Yunho hesitates. Should he say it now? But they’d just had sex. He wasn’t a romantic, but surely saying it now would be… crass.

“Yun?” Max asks softly. “What’s wrong?”

He looks almost innocent in the dim lighting, eyes rounded and concern written all over his face. “Nothing,” Yunho says eventually. “We’re here now.”

Their chauffeur is red-faced and refuses to look at them in the eye as they exit the car, giggling like schoolboys, as Yunho grabs Max by the hand and drags him into a tall building.

“What’s this?” Max asks as they get into the elevator. He sobers suddenly, staring at Yunho. “This isn’t the part where you brutally murder me, right?”

Yunho snorts. “No way. You’re too good a fuck. It’d be a waste to kill you.”

“Lucky me,” Max rolls his eyes and shoves at him lightly, but Yunho grabs his hands and pulls him close. “Is this part of the surprise?”

“You’ll see,” Yunho grins. The elevator doors open, and he leads them towards a familiar door. Behind the thick wooden panelling was his home- his real home. Not the restrictive walls of his company headquarters, not the perfect interior of his hotel apartment. No, this was something else. This was where he was truly himself- where he occasionally liked to wear sweatpants and watch dvds, or play video games at four in the morning. This apartment was his heart, and now, he was willingly revealing it all to Max. He steadies his nerves with a breath, unlocking the door.

Last chance to back out.

He glances back at the other man, who smiles gently at him, not expectant or impatient, just open to anything Yunho wanted to show him. Perhaps his doubt shows on his face, because Max closes a hand over his and leans in to kiss him sweetly.

Yunho opens the door.

The inside of his apartment is dark, something he quickly amends by lighting the dozens of candles he had placed around the floor hours before. He had been too stubborn to resort to sprinkling rose petals around, but instead he has bouquets of flowers all over the apartment. Not just typical blossoms, but caladiums, edelweiss, gardenias, jonquils, acacias, four leaf clovers, and a whole host of other flowers that Yunho wasn’t even sure of what he’d bought. Their fragrance permeates the air; the sweetest perfume that could never be recreated and sold in a bottle.

Yunho finishes with the candles, and turns to face Max, who’s still standing in front of the door, the strangest expression on his face. He looks amazed, touched, and loving all at the same time. There’s a flicker of something else too, but it’s gone too quickly before Yunho can decipher it.

“Yunho? Is this your apartment? Your real one?” Max asks softly.

Yunho nods. “This,” he gestures at the space. “This is where I’m truly myself. Not the company or the hotel apartment. I inherited those. But this is all mine. And I wanted you to see it.”

Max slowly steps towards him, fingers reaching out to brush against the flowers. “Has anyone else been here before?”

“No,” he admits. He can’t bring himself to verbally explain his vulnerability, but Max seems to understand. He reaches to pluck at the flowers, making a small bouquet of green manchineel leaves, dahlias and violets.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Yun,” Max says quietly, pressing his bouquet into Yunho’s hands.

He so badly wants to tell him- just three words that would change him forever. No- Yunho was already a changed man. He’d hired Max without any feeling: just another pretty face he’d fuck once in a while. But Max had shone a light on him, had seen all the cracks and blemishes and here he still was, accepting Yunho the way he was with no judgement or any intention to run away. Yunho supposes he should have seen it coming, really. But stood in the middle of his apartment, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, with Max in his heart.

_I love you._

*

Changmin is amazed at the absolute trust that Yunho seems to have in him. He’s not the CEO tonight, not the lonely businessman, not the dominating client he’d experienced when they’d first met. No, tonight he was just Jung Yunho, and Changmin didn’t want him any other way. This was the second apartment, the one that must contain the contracts and documents that Jaejoong had been after this whole time. He was finally here, clutching a small bouquet between his hands and Yunho’s.

“You know, I think manchineel leaves are poisonous,” Yunho says, seemingly for lack of anything better to say. Changmin laughs a little, letting the leaves fall to the floor.

Yunho is smiling, looking so content that Changmin knows what he has to do. Jaejoong be damned- he would not deceive the older man any longer.

_I love you._

“Dahlias kind of look like pom-poms, don’t you think?” he chuckles. He pops the dahlia back into a bouquet that’s sitting on the coffee table. Left with a single white violet, his tucks the flower into Yunho’s suit pocket and leans forward to kiss him properly. Yunho opens his mouth, lets Changmin suckle lightly on his bottom lip and pushes his tongue against his. Surrounded by the fragrant blossoms and flickering candles, it’s easy to pretend that Jaejoong is a thousand miles away, arms wrapped tightly around each other in the middle of the floor.

*

 _Tonight_ , they both think. _I’ll tell him everything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Driver, roll up the partition please/I don’t want you seeing Yonce on her knees/ [Let’s be real, it was only a matter of time before I worked that into a homin fic…]
> 
> -The named flowers that Yunho buys for Changmin/Max all have meanings. In alphabetical order:  
> Acacia: Hidden love, withdrawn beauty  
> Caladium: Immense delight and joy  
> Clover (Four-leaf): "Will you be mine?"  
> Edelweiss: Noble purity, Courage, Daring  
> Gardenia: Secret love, "You are lovely"  
> Jonquil: Sympathy, Desire, Affection returned, Love me
> 
> \- Likewise, the flora that Changmin picks for his little bouquet to give to Yunho also have hidden meanings:  
> Manchineel: Betrayal  
> Dahlia: Contradictory feelings of betrayal and commitment to another forever  
> Violet (White): "Let's take a chance."
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating... :3

Dinner is takeout from the Moroccan restaurant where they had first shared a meal together. The restaurant doesn’t normally deliver, so Yunho had paid quite a bribe in order to get the food. But it was worth it, to see Max smiling at the familiar cuisine. They leave the lights off, the dining room illuminated by the candles and surrounded by the sweet, fresh flowers.

They eat with their fingers, plates spread out over the table, and Max peppers Yunho with kisses every two bites or so.

“You’re spoiling me,” he tells the younger man, as he’s fed another mouthful of dessert, followed by an even sweeter kiss.

“I need you, Yunho,” Max says softly. He gets to his feet, and holds out his hand. Yunho takes it willingly, allowing himself to be led to his bedroom. He flicks on the dimmer bedlights, wanting to see Max, but reluctant to disrupt the atmosphere created by the candles.

“Max,” he holds the other man close to him, drowning himself in those dark eyes. “I want you inside me tonight.”

“A-are you sure?”

Yunho nods. It had been years since the last time he’d allowed another man inside him, having never trusted anyone enough to really take care of him properly. But here was Max, with gentle hands and loving words, carefully sliding off his shirt and kissing the spot above his heart.

“Thank you,” Max murmurs. “For trusting me.”

They lay back on the bed, peeling off their clothes and tossing the bedsheets to the floor- they seem unnecessary here, when all either of them wanted was to be covered by the other man.

Max cradles Yunho’s face between his hands, kissing him again and again until they both break away gasping for air, hips rolling instinctively. Yunho jerks as Max plays with his nipples, biting down on his neck, the ministrations making his cock swell larger, aching to be touched. “Don’t tease,” he manages to gasp. Max responds by biting harder, working the sensitive flesh between his teeth until Yunho is whimpering, feeling hot all over.

Desperate to make Max feel the same, Yunho snakes a hand between their bodies, tugging on Max’s length, kissing the moans from the corner of his mouth. They’ve fucked so many times already, in Yunho’s office, the car, the hotel apartment, tangled in so many positions, but somehow, this is like the first time.  The younger man is like a fine wine; rich with depth, tantalising flavours that tease with their sensuality. Yunho wants to absorb him; to be so immersed in Max that he can never find himself again. He wants to learn every curve and angle of him, to know exactly which spot makes Max cry out, the movements that will make Max lose himself in pleasure. His dick is leaking now, excited at the thoughts that fill his head, rivulets of pre-come dribbling down and smearing across their bellies.

“You feel so good,” Max is whispering, and Yunho smiles, heart swelling with the praise. “You’ll feel better when I’m inside you.” He pulls back a little. “Do you want that?”

“Yes, god yes,” Yunho replies, lost. “I want it all. All of you.”

“You have all of me,” Max promises. He rolls them over, until Yunho lays on his back, running his hands across the smooth muscle of the other man as he reaches for a warmed bottle of oil on the nightstand. Max wriggles down, bottle in hand. Yunho spreads his legs, breathing in the musky scent of their sex, trying to focus on the heat and weight of the other man, but he can’t help a frisson of tension when Max glides his thumb over the entrance of his hole.

“Feel good?” Max asks, not waiting for an answer before his swallows Yunho’s cock, head bobbing up and down in a steady pace.

“Oh, God,” Yunho groans, carding his hands through Max’s hair. He lifts his knees, allowing the other man to slide in a slick finger, pumping gently in and out. “Max. Oh, Max. You’re beautiful.”

He fights the urge to close his eyes, determined to ingrain every moment of this onto his memories forever. Max is pushing in another finger now, scissoring them to loosen his rings of muscle, moaning around his cock.

  
“Yunho,” Max releases him, a string of spit still connected from his lips to the head of Yunho’s cock. It looks filthy, especially as Max is gazing at him with bare lust, eyes hooded with arousal. Another finger is added, even as Yunho grits his teeth, demanding more.  
  
“Please,” he blurts out. “I need- I need you.” He lets out a huff of air, tossing his head back as he burns inside. Max is exceedingly gentle, crooking his fingers until Yunho cries out, body trembling. “Max! Please, too close- I-”

With a groan, Max pulls his fingers out, spilling more oil onto his cock before his lines himself up. Their eyes meet. “Ready?” Max asks, nudging his hole. Yunho can’t bring himself to say anything more, just falls back and opening himself up as Max finally, _finally_ , pushes home.

“Yes,” he says, voice strained. His hips rock back and forth on instinct, slowly at first, but it’s not enough, he wants the other man, just _wants_.

It would break him if Max decides to say _It’s alright, I’m here, it’s okay_ , but he doesn’t. He doesn’t need to- Yunho hears the words nonetheless: in the way Max has gathered him between his arms, in the way he softly kisses Yunho, nuzzling at his temple. It’s sweet and _loving_ , and Yunho can barely take it, eyes stinging with emotion. Max kisses him again, hips thrusting to impale him and Yunho clutches at his shoulders, intense pleasure blanking his mind.

“Ohhh,” is all he’s able to say. He clenches down on Max, hearing the other man gasp at the sensation. “Oh, oh, Max-”

“Good?” Max is saying, sweat making his hair cling to his face.

“Yes,” Yunho whispers, wishing he had better words to describe it; the joy of having Max fill him, spread him wide open, to lay himself bare and let the younger man take it all. It’s incredible, the sounds of their cries in time with the slick wet slaps as Max draws out and slams back into Yunho. His pace quickens, going harder and faster, angling himself so Yunho’s prostate is hit, again and again, nerves so overwhelmed his vision swims.

“Right there, right there,” he begs, frantically lifting his hips for more. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough, and he almost wants to drown, to be swallowed by Max and be a part of him forever. He’s laughing, Yunho realises, breathless gasps of hilarity that bubble up and burst like champagne. He’s spent his whole life surrounded by the riches and wealth of his family’s wealth, had enclosed himself with the very best that money could buy. And here was Max, fucking into him with the basest animal instinct and suddenly all that money means nothing- absolutely nothing, as long as Max is here, their bodies entangled and hearts intertwined.

Yunho holds onto him, whining as Max cradles his face, their mouths close enough to kiss, but Max is breathing in his exhalations, whispering filthy words and endearment at the same time. He pauses for just a heartbeat, cradling Yunho’s face.

“Yun,” he says, eyes locked. “Yunho, I love you- _I love you_ -”

Pressure builds, their pace increasing, and Yunho follows the spiralling tension, crying out. “Max- I-”

He still can’t say it. Everything seems too intense all of a sudden, the sensations, the emotion, and he opens his mouth, trying to get it out.

“It’s okay,” Max is whispering. “You don’t need to say it. I know it. _I know it._ Yunho, I love you.”

Yunho almost screams as orgasm slams through him, starting at the core of his body and spiralling out to his fingertips, running all through and under his skin, and he sobs with the strength of it, feeling as if his whole body has been wrung out and turned inside out.

“Yes, oh yes,” he moans, and Max cries out, body tensing before he spills over, burying his face into the crook of Yunho’s neck. He shudders, repeating Yunho’s name like a mantra, before slowing, body shuddering.

They lie together, breathing hard, still connected until Max softens, pulling himself out, before snuggling close again, sliding their sweat-slick bodies to align on the mattress, close enough that their limbs entangle, and finally, Yunho feels at home.

*

The Han River is beautiful this time of night, lit up with dozens of lights reflecting off the ripples of water. The sun has set and the paths are mostly deserted, so they walk alongside the river, hand in hand.

“My parents never loved me,” Yunho is saying softly. “I guess that’s no secret. I was just an asset to ensure the company stayed under the name Jung.”

“It must have been a lot of pressure,” Changmin replies, squeezing his hand. Yunho shrugs.

“I suppose. I spent my whole life trying to live up to their expectations. And even when they passed on, I didn’t stop. I’ve never known anything different. Everyone knows me as the scary, ruthless businessman.”

“I don’t.”

“I know,” Yunho smiles. They pause under a tree, the dappled streetlights looking like confetti frozen in time. Gazing across the river, Yunho is smiling, almost laughing out loud.

“What are you smiling about?” Changmin nudges him.

“You. We’ve known each other for, what, a month? And already you’ve pushed away everything I’ve ever known and made yourself at home between the cracks of my heart.” He shakes his head. “Now I wonder what would’ve happened to me if I had never met you. Probably died an early death from over-working myself.”

Changmin frowns, feeling uncomfortable. “Don’t say that, Yunho. Never say that.”

Yunho blinks. “Sorry. I’m not used to being careful of my words. I’ve never had to care about what someone else thought before.”

Changmin looks across to the river, unable to meet his eyes. God, what had he gotten himself into? Before he had met Yunho, he had only one goal: clean up his life by any means possible. He was even prepared to work for Jaejoong until his debt was fully paid off- then suddenly, he was given an opportunity to wipe his slate clean. All he had to do was get close to Yunho and steal the documents that Jaejoong wanted. Changmin hadn’t even asked why, he just agreed to what he thought would be another client, only this time it would involve a case of theft. He had never put much thought to finding anyone special; just living a free life was enough for him. But even he couldn’t deny that Yunho had somehow _fit_ into his life, as much as he tried to fight it. It didn’t help that the other man seemed to feel the same way. “Max?” Yunho gently interrupts his thoughts. Changmin forces himself to smile as he leans back against the treetrunk, pulling Yunho against him.

“Sorry. I’m a million miles away.”

“Let me bring you back then,” Yunho says, and kisses him. His lips are gentle, his hands warm. It was odd to think that they had known each other for only a month, but already Changmin couldn’t imagine life without Yunho- the very thought of it seemed to make his stomach churn. He had sworn to himself that he would tell Yunho everything tonight, but what if Yunho couldn’t forgive him for such a betrayal? Changmin shivers; and Yunho pulls him closer, his kiss deepening.

Changmin was certain of one thing: He couldn’t lose Yunho. Not after everything. He would do anything to stay by the other man’s side, where he belonged.

With effort, he breaks off the kiss, before his half-hard cock has anything else to respond to.

“Yunho,” he breathes. “I- I should go home.”

Yunho nods, cheeks a little flushed. “Alright. Let’s get back to the car.”

“No, wait, I can get a cab-” Changmin starts.

“There’s no need for that. I can take you, come on,” Yunho is saying, tugging his hand.

The area Changmin lives in is rough, the type of run-down neighbourhood that mothers would warn their children to stay away from. Instead of letting Yunho see this, he asks the older man to drop him off a few streets away, where the roads are clear of broken glass and graffiti.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” He asks, kissing the older man quickly. Yunho nods, smiling contentedly.

“Of course.” Changmin can’t resist but to hold him close, breathing in Yunho’s scent. “I love you.”

_I will fix this. I promise._

Before the older man can respond, he gets out of the car, waving until Yunho has pulled away.

He waits until Yunho has turned the corner before heading to his real home, a five minute walk or so. His ground-floor apartment is situated in a grubby looking building that seemed to permanently smell of weed.

Heechul is cleaning the kitchenette when he gets through the door. Since Changmin had refused to accept rent money from his hyung, Heechul had taken it upon himself to be in charge of all domestic house duties, and the apartment sparkles more than Changmin had ever seen it in the time he’s lived there.

“Welcome home! I left some takeout in the fridge if you haven’t eaten already.”

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” Changmin says, sinking down onto his battered sofa.

Heechul comes over, frowning. “Alright. I know that face. What are you thinking so hard about?”

“I need to break into Jaejoong’s office at the club?” Changmin scruffs a hand through his hair, smiling sheepishly. Heechul’s jaw falls open.

“Wait, what? Are you insane? He’ll kill you! You’re already walking on thin ice as it is.”

“I know,” Changmin sighs. “But I have to try, hyung.”

“I thought you were planning on telling Yunho everything? What happened to that?”

“I couldn’t do it,” Changmin admits. “I wanted to, but- I got scared. I mean what if he can’t forgive me for that? That’s why I need to help him. To show him my loyalty lies with him.”

Heechul plops down beside him. “If he really loves you, he won’t blame you for this. The fact that you’re worrying over his reaction is really telling, Min-ah.”

“It’s not like that. I just want to be sure.”

“Don’t do this, Changmin, please,” Heechul begs. “If you get caught-”

“I have to do this, don’t you understand?” Changmin interrupts. Then, voice softer: “I love him.”

“God help you,” Heechul whispers. He closes his eyes, trying to focus. “I can’t support your decision, Min. I’m sorry. But what are you even planning to do in Jaejoong’s office?”

“I don’t know his entire plans, but I do know he’s trying to stop Yunho’s company merging with Han Industries. But I’m willing to bet he keeps all the files in his office.”

“Wait, the Chinese company? Christ, they’re huge. Why would he need to prevent the merger?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but knowing Jaejoong, it involves money. A lot of it.”

“And I assume he keeps all his important files in his office. So you’re planning on stealing them for what? Will you even understand them?”

Changmin says nothing for a moment, then silently pulls out a file from his messenger bag, spreading the pages out on their coffee table. Heechul’s eyes widen.

“Is that-”

“I took them from Yunho’s desk when he took a shower,” Changmin explains softly. "Yunho's files on the company merger. If I can compare them to Jaejoong’s files, I’ll figure out exactly what’s going on. I can put a stop to this.”

“And you think this will work, do you?”

“It has to,” Changmin says quietly. And really, what other choice does he have?

*

Yunho drives for just a few minutes before he’s mentally kicking himself. Why hadn’t he just confessed his love for Max? He’d been planning to: had deliberately bought Max to his home and allowed Max to make love to him, had strolled alongside the Han River and opened his heart, and _still._ He still couldn’t say it.

 _I’m a coward,_ Yunho thinks to himself, as he makes a U-turn. He could easily close a deal worth millions of dollars, he had no fear when demanding respect from his employees, but when it comes to simply telling the man he loved how he felt, his stomach churned and throat closed up.

“Ridiculous,” he mutters to himself as he hastily parks his car and gets out, frowning. Where was Max?

The street is dimly lit, but it doesn’t stop movement from catching his eye: Max is disappearing around the corner of the block. Automatically, Yunho follows, keeping his distance. Doubt starts curling its tendrils up his spine, squeezing his heart.

The building Max enters is practically falling apart. The windows are protected with rusting iron bars, and paint is peeling from the front door. Yunho stops, staring. Max had used a key, so obviously he lived here. But why would he lie about his place? With the amount of money Yunho was paying him, surely a certain percentage would go to Jaejoong, but even without that, Max could afford a better apartment. He stops outside the front door, fist raised to knock, but something stops him and he leans back, feeling weak.

Yunho doesn’t know how long he stands there, wondering if he should confront Max. The decision is made for him as the front door suddenly opens, a slim man stepping out, trash bag in hand. He gasps as he almost crashes into Yunho.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man snaps, eyeing him warily.

“I- I’m looking for Max,” Yunho explains, stepping back a little so the man can toss away his trash. “I may as well ask you the same thing.”

“And who’s looking for Max?” the man ignores his question.

“Yunho. I’m a- a friend,” Yunho says, feeling irritated. Who the hell was this guy?

“Yunho? As in _Jung_ Yunho? Of Jung Corporations?” the man asks, eyes narrowing.

“Yes. Now can I speak to Max?” Yunho says, annoyed. The man says nothing, body blocking the door.

“I’m Heechul. Max’s roommate.” He says eventually. “He’s taking a shower right now.”

“Right. I guess I can wait.”

“No, you can fuck off,” Heechul snarls. “Do you know what a mess you’ve put him in?”

Yunho blinks, confused at Heechul’s aggression. “What are you talking about?”

Heechul scoffs, glaring at him. “Like it matters to you. You and all your money and connections, you can just walk away scot-free. And Max is risking _everything_ he has for you. And you don’t even know it.”

“Seriously, what the hell are you talking about?” Yunho asks. A cold chill washes over him. “Is Max in trouble?”

Heechul looks torn between telling him and holding back. Eventually, he huffs out a breath and says: “Do you really think it’s easy working for Jaejoong? All his boys are just pawns, whilst Jaejoong sits back and uses them to get whatever he wants. Max is no different. The more time he spend with you, the more danger he’s in.”

“I- I don’t understand,” Yunho feels a trickle of sweat ghosting down the nape of his neck. It was no secret that Jaejoong dealt with criminal activities. He’d never really cared as long as he or his company wasn’t associated with it. But if Max was somehow caught up in this… “What do I do? I can help.”

“You want to help? Then stay away from Max. I mean it. Get the hell away from him, never contact him again.”

“What?” Yunho shakes his head. “No, I meant- Look, I have money. I know people. Just tell me what you need.”

“I need you to leave him alone, Jung,” Heechul snaps.

“No. I won’t. I- love him,” Yunho gets out. _If I can say it to your flatmate, I can say it to you, Max._

“Love him?” Heechul repeats. “Love him? You don’t know what love is!”

“Don’t you dare make assumptions,” Yunho growls, truly angry for the first time that night. “You know nothing about our relationship. I love Max.”

“Max,” Heechul repeats the name like he’s spitting out venom. “You don’t even know his real fucking name, do you?”

Yunho opens his mouth, but shuts it abruptly as he realises this is true. Heechul is watching him, scoffing at his reaction. “You see? You claim you love him, but you never even asked what his real name is. Did you ever bother to ask anything about him? Where he grew up? What his hobbies are? How he ended up working for Jaejoong? You don’t know a thing! So don’t give me this shit about loving him, when you don’t even know him.”

“I…” Yunho starts, but he really has nothing to say. He’d opened himself to Max, but when had he ever paused to allow Max to open up to him? Thinking about it, he’d never even bothered to find out where Max lived until tonight. It hadn’t even occurred to him, he had been so wrapped up in selfishly wanting to be loved by Max- whatever his real name was. But Max had told him he loved him. That had to mean something, surely? Perhaps Yunho wasn’t so experienced with actual relationships, but even he knew that most people wouldn’t say “I love you” so easily. He turns back to Heechul, who’s looking at him with not anger, but pity. It makes him feel mere inches tall.

“If you think you truly love him,” Heechul says quietly. “Then leave him. And don’t come back.” He pauses, as if about to say something else, but seems to change his mind, closing the door firmly into place.

In a daze, Yunho walks back to his car, feet dragging. Tendrils of sunlight fight their way over the horizon, signalling a new day. But sat behind the steering wheel, Yunho can’t feel any of the warmth. He’d felt so secure with Max, and now the rug had been pulled from under his feet, leaving him sprawling. Yunho swallows thickly as realisation dawns on him- he doesn’t know a thing about Max. Not where he came from. Not what he wanted in life. Not even who he really is. But Max had loved him nonetheless. He had seen his real side, warts and all, and still accepted him. And Yunho had selfishly lapped it all up, greedily engorged himself on it without a thought for the other man.

It’s not until he spots the moisture dampening the steering wheel that Yunho even notices that he’s crying.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: This chapter contains mentions of non-con, gang rape. There's nothing explicit, but the implications are very clear, so please read with caution.

The phone rings a little earlier than Jaejoong anticipates.

“Jaejoong. It’s Yunho. I need to speak with you.”

“Well, I assume so if you’re using the telephone,” Jaejoong drawls. “I can book you in for an appointment-”

“No, you bastard- I need to know- Is Max involved with any of the shit that you’re messing around with?”

Yunho’s voice is tightly clipped. Strained. Jaejoong smiles wider. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That’s a yes then, you son of a bitch. Whatever it is you’re doing, I don’t care. But don’t drag Max into it. He doesn’t deserve it.”

Jaejoong laughs, the sound rich and smooth. “Oh, so he deserves you instead? To be kept as the whore of a selfish businessman?” He drums his fingers against the surface of his desk. “Believe me, Jung. Max knows exactly what he’s gotten himself into. I’m hardly to blame for his decisions.”

“You- Look. What do you want? You know I have money. I’ll pay you. I’ll put you in touch with whoever you want. Just leave Max alone.”

“How tempting,” Jaejoong muses. “So you’re willing to give up that much for Max, hm?” He chuckles as he listens to Yunho’s harsh breathing on the other end- clearly the other man was trying to keep his temper in check. But there was nothing he could do: Jaejoong was holding all the cards here. “Very well. I’ll be in China tomorrow to speak with potential clients. You can meet me there and we can discuss the terms of Max’s… contract. I’ll text you the finer details.”

He listens as Yunho seethes, unable to offer any other option. “Fine,” Yunho snaps in agreement. He also says a few more phrases that were not meant for delicate ears, but Jaejoong hangs up, deft fingers already dialling another number.

“Hello cousin dear,” he purrs as Changmin picks up. “A change of plan. We fly to China tomorrow. Pack whatever you need and I’ll meet you at the airport at 9am.”

He hangs up again, before Changmin can get a single word in. It was probably for the best. He wasn’t sure he could keep his cool whilst listening to Changmin lie to him. Jaejoong frowns, glancing at the drawer of his desk. It _had_ contained the files he kept on Yunho, his company, and everything else he needed to see this deal through. Normally he kept it locked, but since circumstances had changed… well, he just wanted to be sure.

Jaejoong leans back in his chair, contemplating. It was a relatively simple idea- not perfect of course, but he had been planning for months; enough to have some level of confidence. All he needed was for Changmin to seduce Yunho enough to get inside his home; take the relevant files and give them to Jaejoong. In return, Jaejoong would return Changmin his passport and birth certificate and send him on his merry way. It would be a shame to lose a boy as valuable as Changmin had proved to be, but no one else had managed to get close enough to Yunho before.

He should have known his useless cousin would fuck things up. The desk drawer had been purposefully kept unlocked- he needed to see if Changmin was truly on his side or not. And now it sat empty, giving him all the answers he needed to know. Jaejoong sighs. Changmin might be family, but that meant nothing if Jaejoong needed to see his threats through. He sighs again, glancing to the empty drawers that Changmin has cleared a few hours ago. Did that idiot seriously think Jaejoong wouldn’t notice? That he wouldn’t be able to put two and two together, and work out that Changmin had really fallen for Yunho? He dials again, clearing his throat to make his third and final phonecall of the night.

“Mr Choi Siwon. There’s been a slight change of plan- nothing serious, I assure you. But I’ll be in China tomorrow. We’re a little ahead of schedule.”

By the time he’s finished, Jaejoong sighs in contentment as he visualises almost everything falling into place. He was _so_ close, he could nearly taste success, just dancing out of reach. Contrary to popular belief, Jaejoong wasn’t keen on running a whorehouse forever. He was still relatively young, decently wealthy and accustomed to a certain lifestyle. It’s not like he could just sell his club and start applying for a normal 9-to-5 job. No, it would be better to leave this line of work with enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life, out of trouble and out of sight. Jaejoong scowls, thinking of Changmin. He’d hoped for a little loyalty at least, some gratitude for everything he’d done for the foolish younger man.  But no, in the end you can only rely on yourself. Jaejoong had often heard his enemies compare him to a chess-player, easily sacrificing his pawns in order to get what he wanted. But Jaejoong thought of himself as a spider: sitting comfortably in the centre of the huge web he’d spun around himself, paying careful attention to the slightest vibration that disrupted his world. And Changmin had practically tore his thread away from the silken strands, in the silly hope that his cousin wouldn’t notice. Jaejoong scoffs to himself. He did not like being crossed. Especially not by his own flesh and blood. Whatever the stupid man was trying to do, Jaejoong would inevitably put a stop to it. He had been willing to let Changmin go after his assignment with Yunho, but there was no way he could allow the younger man to get away with betrayal- no, Jaejoong would ensure that he alone would gain everything he wanted, leaving Yunho with nothing. But more importantly, he would tear Changmin down; crush him to pieces so small that his cousin could never recover again.

*

Changmin doesn’t feel truly nervous until he sees the hotel room that Jaejoong had booked for him. Spacious and luxurious, the room was suited more for the wealthy business men of Yunho’s peers, not a low-brow prostitute like himself. In short, it was the type of room that Jaejoong would expect Changmin to use for… entertaining guests. Heechul, who had bought a plane ticket himself to accompany Changmin, is also aware of this fact, staring around the luxury, looking nauseous.

“Do you think that’s why he bought you here? To sleep with businessmen?” Heechul asks nervously.

Changmin shrugs. “I don’t know. It looks like it.”

“Do you still have the files?”

Changmin nods, gesturing to his messenger bag that held the files he’d taken from Jaejoong’s office, and Yunho’s apartment. He’d barely had any time to look over them, only quickly making photocopies, kept safely with Heechul. When Jaejoong had ordered him to fly to China with him, he had swung by the club to replace the files in Jaejoong’s desk drawer then he had gone over to Yunho’s apartment, under the guise of cooking breakfast for the other man, whilst putting back the documents he’d stolen. But Yunho’s apartment was empty, and a quick call to his company headquarters revealed that the older man had flown to China for an emergency business meeting. Pressed for time and close to panicking, Changmin had no choice but to bring the files with him to China, and put them back when he returned to Korea.

“I don’t like this,” Heechul mutters. “It feels like the calm before the storm. The break–in into Jaejoong’s office was too easy. And now all of a sudden he tells you to come to China. And we know Yunho’s somewhere here too.”

“China is a large country, hyung,” Changmin points out. “He could be anywhere. What are the chances that he’ll be in the same place as me?”

Heechul shrugs, still unhappy, but even he has to admit the chances of bumping into Yunho were slim. On the mattress, Changmin’s phone buzzes, signalling a text message from his older cousin.

“It’s him,” he says, scanning the text, before turning back to Heechul. “He says to meet him in the hotel’s meeting room. I just need to stay here and do whatever it is Jaejoong needs me to do. Then get back to Korea and put Yunho’s files back.”

*

Yunho strides through the hotel corridors, impatiently scanning the room numbers for the meeting room that Jaejoong had booked for their conversation.

“Bastard had to fly me out all the way to China,” Yunho mutters. He’d had to fly over all his staff too, under the guise of holding meetings earlier. Yoona and her team had gone into a frenzy working over-time to re-adjust his schedule, but Yunho doesn’t care. He could afford to buy Max out of his contract, whatever the price Jaejoong would set- and he would surely choose a ridiculously high one.

He only knocks once before opening the door to the meeting room. Jaejoong is sitting at the end of the long conference table, talking with-

“What are you doing here?” Yunho blurts.

The two men look up.

“Hello, Yunho,” Siwon says, smiling charmingly. Yunho didn’t have any friends as a child, but he’d known Siwon his whole life, both of them growing up as the heirs to their respective family companies. Under the circumstances, they could have been friends, but competition had been fierce between the Jungs and Choi’s, so they had only ever viewed each other as rivals.

Yunho takes a seat opposite the men, feeling far too uncomfortable than he was used to. “Well, Jaejoong, I’m here. Name your price and I’ll be on my way.”

At that, Siwon laughs loudly, obnoxiously, and Yunho’s acutely aware that he must be missing out on something.

“Price? I’m not after your money, Yunho,” Jaejoong says, smiling widely. Yunho freezes.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he spits.

“It’s time I come clean,” Jaejoong says, he glances over at Siwon, who gives a small nod. “You had planned to come to China to merge your company with Han Industries, did you not?”

“How the hell would you know that?” Yunho asks. He suddenly feels cold all over, breaking out in a nervous sweat. Jaejoong is smiling far too widely than he likes, a show of confidence next to Yunho’s lifelong rival. He isn’t sure of the details yet, but Yunho doesn’t need more evidence to know he- and probably his company- is in danger.

“My boys are my eyes and ears everywhere,” Jaejoong says dismissively. He focuses on Yunho, as savouring Yunho’s reactions. “But most of all, Max has been _very_ helpful.”

It’s like someone has punched him in the gut. Yunho is vaguely grateful that he’s already sitting down, because he’s pretty sure he’d have fallen to his knees. “M-Max,” he repeats faintly. “What has he got to do with this?”

Jaejoong raises an eyebrow. “Yunho. Look at your surroundings. You’re here in China mere days before you’re due to merge your company with Han Industries. And right now, you’re in the same room as the CEO of your corporation’s rival. So: you tell me. What do you think Max has to do with this?”

No. No. It couldn’t be. Yunho straightens up, even as his heart pounds furiously against his ribcage. This had to be some stupid mind trick Jaejoong was playing on him.

“Max wouldn’t-”

“Why don’t you ask him,” Jaejoong says, as there’s a soft knock on the door. “That should be him.”

Yunho hears the squeak as someone applies pressure on the door handle, he hears the soft brush of wood against the lush carpet, and the small clicking noise as the door opens. But Yunho doesn’t turn around, because it can’t be Max, because Max is back in Korea, oblivious to any of this-

There’s a soft gasp, a quick inhalation of air that’s far too familiar. Then someone whispers his name, in the same soft tone Yunho had grown to love. He closes his eyes.

And opens then. Stands up. And he can’t bear it any longer, turning around because _he needs to know_ -

Max is standing in the door frame, hand still pushing the door open. His mouths hangs open, eyes wide, teary.

Time seems to stretch out, like a piece of elastic, pulling and pulling taunt until Yunho snaps.

“You,” he says, voice soft. Low. Neutral.

“Nice of you to join us, Max,” Jaejoong is saying, and Yunho doesn’t need to look at him to know the man is smug. “I was just telling Yunho how helpful you’ve been over the past month.”

“I… Yunho, I-” Max whispers, looking horrified. His eyes dart from Yunho, to Jaejoong, to Siwon, back to Yunho. “Let me explain.”

“Don’t bother,” Yunho snarls. He turns back to Jaejoong. “So this was your plan, all along.”

“No, it was my plan,” Siwon smiles, amused. “I couldn’t let your company merge with Han’s. That would severely disadvantage my own business- you know how large the Chinese market is. Luckily for me, Jaejoong had a way of stopping you.”

“A wealthy, lonely man just looking for the love that he’s always craved,” Jaejoong mocks. “You were stubborn, at first, I’ll give you that. You sent all my other boys away. Except Max.”

“Yunho,” Max is saying, stepping closer. “Yunho, listen to me. It wasn’t like that.” Max places and hand on his arm, but Yunho shakes it off, coldly furious.

“Don’t touch me, you- you whore!”

Max blinks, gaze skittering away. Yunho hates it, hates the way Max can’t even look at him, hates how he’s the one causing it. But the betrayal hurts even more, burns more fiercely than the sting of humiliation.

“Did you really think you had the upper hand here, Yunho?” Siwon drawls, bored. “Max told us everything we ever wanted to know about Jung Corporations. You won’t be signing those papers with Han Industries this week. I will.”

“Neat,” Yunho scoffs, fists balling up. He can’t help but turn back to Max. “All this time? You told me you love me.” Yunho’s voice cracks a little, but he doesn’t even care.

“I told you when I first introduced you, didn’t I?” Jaejoong smirks. “Max is _very_ good at what he does.”

“Jaejoong, please stop,” Max shakes his head, tears spilling onto his shirt. He gazes at Yunho pleadingly. “It started off with me just using you. But I grew to know you, Yun. I meant it when I said I love you. Please, you have to believe me.”

Yunho sucks in a breath, wondering how he could hurt so much without a scratch on his body.

 “I don’t enjoy being double-crossed, cousin,” Jaejoong says coolly.

“Cousin,” Yunho repeats. Of course. “This just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?”

“Here’s how it works, Jung. We know all your company’s little marketing secrets, all the tactics you have lined up. We could bring you down and ruin you forever,” He pauses, allowing the news to sink in. “But you have a second option. Break off your deal with Han Industries, and Siwon’s company will offer a better contract, one which Han can’t possibly refuse. It’ll be a smooth transition, and you still get to keep doing business in Korea.”

“In exchange for what?”

Jaejoong narrows his eyes. “You let me deal with Max.” Beside him, Max gives a start. “He betrayed me as well, and I won’t allow him to get away with it. Whatever happens to him will be none of your business. You don’t offer to buy him out of his contract with me, you don’t get in touch with anyone, and you don’t interfere. Deal?” He holds out a hand.

Yunho turns to look at Max. The younger man isn’t crying now, simply looking at Yunho with a soft expression. He isn’t silent pleading with Yunho to save him, nor was he disgusted at Yunho’s contemplation of Jaejoong’s offer. It was an open face that Yunho was looking at, the one that said, _It’s okay. I accept you anyway._ It was the same expression Max had when they’d spent their mornings curled up together in bed, when Yunho had taken him for a walk alongside the river in the early hours of the morning and opened his heart. And everything he’d said meant nothing, because it was just a ruse to get so deeply under his skin, he wouldn’t notice Max sneaking off with bits of information that his enemies needed. He looks away, then back at Jaejoong.

“Deal,” Yunho says, and shakes Jaejoong’s hand. He casts one final look at Max. The younger man closes his eyes, resigned. Yunho turns away and walks out of the room, out of Max’s life.

*

Changmin doesn’t move, not even after Siwon has left the room, shaking Jaejoong’s hand in glee. He knows he’s fucked now, no matter what. He’d betrayed Jaejoong, and no one could help him.

“Tonight, there’s a large conference with some of the most important businessmen in Asia,” Jaejoong explains to him coldly. “They’ll be expecting some form of entertainment.”

Changmin flinches.

“They’ll be in your room by eleven, so make sure you’re ready,” Jaejoong says, straightening himself before leaving.

It’s another minute before Changmin sinks to the floor, clutching himself in a fetal position, sobbing and in despair.

*

Yunho slumps on the pavement outside the hotel, suit ruined and head in his hands. He’d gone back to his room afterwards, staring around at all the useless furnishings, the rare paintings and golden taps. Pointless. All of it. What was the use of so much money if none of it could help him? What was the point when the one person he’d ever truly loved was the one who’d betrayed him- had lulled him into a false sense of trust and security, and was the one who’d hurt him the most. Fury had possessed him like a hurricane, and he’d had screamed and screamed, completely demolishing his room when the screaming wasn’t enough. He’d tore apart the whole room, smashing the television, the bar stocked with expensive whiskey, even lobbed the fire extinguisher against the shower door until it had shattered in some semblance of his heart. And still it wasn’t enough.

Terrified, Yoona had called hotel security, who’d tackled him to the ground and kicked him out of the hotel. Yoona and the rest of his staff had been left to scramble around trying desperately to save his reputation and the company. And Yunho felt nothing. He hadn’t flown into such a rage since the last whore he’d kept had stolen his watch. He almost laughs now. A watch was nothing compared to Max’s betrayal.

 China didn’t sell any soju, so he settles for baiju* instead, pulling out a large note for the man selling it in his roadside restaurant. The man had been in shock, seeing the large denomination, apologising to Yunho and saying he didn’t have enough change. Or something like that, Yunho’s Mandarin was getting a little rusty. Uncaring, Yunho had waved him off, taking the drink and leaving without another word. The alcohol had burned down his throat, cheap and effective, and now Yunho sits on the pavement like the homeless people he’d once scoffed at.

Life was full of ironies like that.

He’s still in such a daze that he doesn’t notice Heechul until the other man throws a punch to his face.

“Heechul? Is that you?” Yunho sobers up, rubbing his bruising cheek. The thinner man is breathing hard, fist balled up and ready for another punch.

“You fucker. You little shit. I fucking told you to stay away from him! Do you know what you’ve done, you fucking piece of _shit_!”

“What _I’ve_ done?” Yunho snaps. “Max is the one who betrayed me. He used me!”

“And you used him,” Heechul snarls. Yunho blinks. “You only met because you wanted a whore on the side, right? Or did you really forget about that fact, huh?”

“That- that’s different,” he protests, taking another swig from his bottle. Heechul snatches it from him, hurling it to the ground until the bottle smashes, alcohol dripping down into the gutter. Yunho gets to his feet, vision a little blurred under the influence. “Bastard!”

“You can curse at me all you want Jung, but as far as I’m concerned, this is all your fault.”

“Max knew exactly what he was getting himself into,” Yunho snaps. “I don’t see how I’m responsible for this.”

“You said you loved him!” Heechul shouts. “Obviously not since you’re just sitting here on your arse getting drunk when Changmin’s in danger!”

“Changmin?” Yunho repeats.

“Shim Changmin, if you’d ever bothered to find out,” Heechul tells him coolly.

The name sounds completely foreign, and he tries to match it to Max’s face, before the rest of Heechul’s words sink in. “What do you mean, in danger?”

“Jaejoong’s punishing Changmin for betraying him. He’s sent a bunch of businessmen for Changmin to service tonight. And it’ll ruin him, Yunho.” Heechul breaks off, voice catching. “I tried to get Changmin to sneak out, but he wouldn’t come. Said he deserved it or some shit. So I tried to stop Jaejoong, and he had me thrown out of the hotel.” He sits down beside Yunho. “And now I don’t know what to do. I promised to look after Changmin, but there’s nothing I can to do help him!” He scruffs his hands through his hair, eyes wet with hopelessness.

“Jesus,” Yunho breathes. “Jaejoong wouldn’t-” he pauses, because he knows that Jaejoong _would._ “Oh, Christ. Fuck, no.”

“You have to help him,” Heechul begs. “They won’t let a nobody like me back into the hotel. But you- maybe they’d let you in. Please, just help him. Please!”

“He- he betrayed me,” Yunho whispers, frozen. Heechul’s brows knit together, and he digs into the bag he’s holding, pulling out several documents- a few which look very familiar. Yunho recognises them as the merger contracts his company had drafted.

“Changmin stole some files from Jaejoong. He was going to show you, to help you. You have to believe me.”

Yunho reaches for the files, flipping through them, eyes skimming over the documents and reading what Jaejoong had been planning. He looks back at Heechul. “He was going to give these to me? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Heechul says. “Yunho. You once told me that you love Max, and I scoffed at you. But if what you said was real, then please, help him.”

Yunho gets to his feet, adrenaline and fear sobering him completely. His mind whirls, thinking hard. He was familiar with these sort of “parties” that happened during business conferences abroad. He had never taken part himself, but the very thought of Changmin in the midst of leering businessmen, with no one to protect him, almost makes him throw up. It’s all he can do not to run in and grab the younger man, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough, not when he was outnumbered and technically banned from the hotel.

“Please tell me you have a plan,” Heechul says. Yunho raises an eyebrow.

“I know these sorts of “parties”,” he says, expression darkening. He thinks out loud, speaking rapidly. “There’ll be plenty of important people who can’t afford to ruin their reputation, yet they’re surrounded by prostitutes and drugs. Would be a terrible shame if someone caught them in the act, don’t you think?” He looks at Heechul, who straightens himself, resolved.

“Tell me what I can do.”

“Call the police,” Yunho says, turning and striding back to the hotel. “Use a payphone so you’re anonymous. Tip them off that there’s an illegal drug trade and illicit prostitute ring being run in the hotel tonight.”

“And what are you going to do?” Heechul calls after him. Yunho breaks into a jog, closing the distance between himself and Max with every step.

“I’m going to save Changmin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Baiju is Chinese rice wine, very similar with Korean soju, and tastes like shit. 0/10, do not recommend...
> 
>  
> 
> .......It's been a month since I updated. Sorry! OTL


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains scenes of an attempted gang-rape. It's nothing explicit, but please read with caution if this might be triggering for you.

Changmin shivers as he changes into his “outfit” for the night: sleek black trousers, silk briefs and a dark olive green shirt that he leaves with the top three buttons undone. His hotel suite is warm, but his hands won’t stop shaking, so he takes slow, deep breaths in an effort to calm down.

It doesn’t work.

“Oh fuck,” Changmin gasps, bending over with his palms on his knees.

The bathroom door opens, and Jaejoong glides in, giving him a cool once-over.

“Your guests have arrived,” he informs Changmin. “So straighten your fucking back and do what you’re good at.”

“Jaejoong,” Changmin pleads. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”

“You should have considered that before you decided to betray me,” Jaejoong snaps, grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming him against the tiled bathroom wall. Changmin yelps in shock, eyes watering at the pain. “Listen to me, you brat. I’ve had enough trouble from you. If you cause me any more worry, I guarantee I will fucking kill you.”

Changmin nods frantically, spluttering for breath. Jaejoong releases his grip, smoothing away any wrinkles on his shirt. It’s chilling to see, the gentle action alongside his cold demeanour.

“Now then,” Jaejoong smiles, teeth flashing. “Enough. You’ll go out to your room, do what I want you to do, and we’ll call it even. How about that?”

“Alright,” Changmin whispers.

Jaejoong puts a finger under his chin, lifting his face so their gazes match: wide, frightened eyes meeting dark, calculating ones. Then Jaejoong spins him around and pushes him out to the hotel suite.

*

Yunho slumps against the hotel wall outside, rubbing his bruised ribs. He’d stormed inside, only to be thrown out again by staff. Impatient, he waits for his PA to come out and get him.

Yoona comes rushing out to meet her boss, her normally composed image looking harried and stressed. Her hair, usually sleek straight, is pulled back into a messy ponytail, her carefully applied eye-makeup is smudged and she’s ditched her heels in favour of a pair of comfortable flats.

“Sir, I really wouldn’t recommend going in, you’re still in a lot of trouble with management-”

“I don’t give a shit,” Yunho snaps, side-stepping her. “Tell them they can sue me as much as they want.”

“It’s not just the money!” Yoona protests, clutching at his arm. “Your reputation sir, and the company-!”

Yunho shakes her off, ignoring her pleas. Strange how only a month ago, there was nothing in his heart but thoughts of the company. But now Max had moved in, soothed the rough edges of his soul, and right now the company is the last of his worries. The sting of Max’s betrayal still cuts deep, but Yunho brushes this aside for now- he couldn’t let the other man bear the brunt of Jaejoong’s wrath.

“SIR,” Yoona shouts, and Yunho can’t help but pause in surprise. In all her years working for him, Yoona had never raised her voice at him. “You’re not the only one who works for Jung Corporations, I hope realise that,” she tells him. “You’re the CEO and company heir, but for the rest of us, we’re replaceable workers who can’t afford a blemish on our careers.”

Yunho really stops to look at her then: her cheeks pink with anger, eyes wary after speaking her mind. He blows out a breath.

“Yoona, listen to me. I know I’ve been a pretty shit boss. I’ve made you work long hours and treated you terribly. But tonight I need to do one more selfish thing, and if that puts your career on the line, then so be it,” Yunho states. “Max is here, and he’s in trouble. I’m going to get him out no matter what.”

“M-Max?” Yoona repeats, stunned. “But why-”

“I can’t tell you,” Yunho interrupts. “Can you trust me this once, please?”

“Say I believe you,” Yoona starts. “But hotel staff aren’t going to let you in.”

“But you could,” he says softly. “Just leave a fire exit open or something. Please.”

“I don’t know,” Yoona hesitates.

“Please,” Yunho begs again. “I’m telling you, Max is in there, he needs my help.”

“You’ve been acting so differently since he entered your life,” Yoona says, with a shake of her head. “Missing meetings, showing up to work later than usual…”

Yunho taps his foot impatiently. Perhaps he should just bribe a staff member-

“And you were so much happier,” Yoona finishes. She straightens up, ignoring Yunho’s look of surprise. “There’s a fire exit on the right hand side of the building, near the kitchens. You’ll find that in two minutes, somebody will have accidentally left it open, and it has absolutely nothing to do with me, understand?”

“Thank you,” Yunho says. Yoona nods in acknowledgement, and turns on her heel to go back inside the hotel.

*

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Come over here!”

Changmin steps forward, unable to lift his gaze. There are at least a dozen men waiting for him here, some of them lounging around on the seating arrangements, some standing. Dotted around the room are bottles of wine and champagne in ice buckets. It almost looks like the exclusive party of the social elite, surrounded by the luxury and lines of coke split on the coffee table. But all eyes prey on Changmin, uncaring of him as a person, only an object to use for their desires to be tossed out like a broken object after they were done. Changmin shudders as a businessman, clad in ostentatious accessories, pulls him into his lap and gropes at him.

“Let’s get started,” the businessman says.

Changmin says nothing, does nothing, as his shirt is yanked away and the businessman slaps him- hard- for not looking eager enough to rub his ego.

Then he notices that despite the expense that surrounds him in the room, there’s something missing.

He doesn’t see condoms or lube anywhere.

*

Yunho pulls off his tie and drops it to the floor by the time he reaches the ninth floor. His shirt sticks to him and his lungs feel like they’re about to burst, but he doesn’t slow from charging up the stairs as fast as he can manage. He had debated taking the lift, but with hotel staff everywhere, it didn’t seem worth the risk.

“Suite number 109,” Heechul is telling him frantically over the phone. “Tenth floor, Yunho, hurry!”

“Almost there,” Yunho gasps. “Did you call-”

“Yeah, called in the tip-off, it shouldn’t be too long before police arrive. Are you there?”

Yunho slips onto the tenth floor of the hotel, trying to steady his breathing. Being the VIP level, the corridor is mercifully deserted. Yunho makes quick strides until he finds suite 109. “Heechul, fuck, I don’t have a keycard!”

“VIP suites have open access lobbies for room service,” Heechul informs him. “Plus, if there’s going to be a large amount of VIP members going in and out, chances are you won’t need a key card.”

Yunho carefully opens the door, which is left unlocked as Heechul had promised.  He enters a small lobby area, furnished with a dresser and table in the middle of the hallway, presumably where hotel staff could discreetly leave whatever room service had been ordered. On the opposite side of the room there’s another door, closed firmly shut.

“Alright, I’m in,” Yunho whispers to Heechul.

“He’ll be through the door on the other side of the room,” Heechul continues. “Go in and bribe them or something, just get Changmin out.”

“I know,” Yunho hisses. “I’ll call you back.”

He hangs up on Heechul, and straightens himself, trying to look the part of a wealthy CEO. Now that he was here, Yunho feels the rise of panic at what he’s about to do. The police would surely be here any time soon, and he and Changmin couldn’t get caught in a room full of drugs. He would only have a few minutes.

*

“W-wait,” Changmin gasps, struggling to get to his feet.

“Wait for what,” the businessmen with the ugly jewellery snaps. “Shut your fucking mouth, I didn’t pay for you to talk!” He grabs at Changmin, shoving him against the floor. Changmin cries out in pain as he lands hard against the cold wooden panels, scrambling across the floor in an effort to get up.

“No, don’t-” he gasps. Another man with a black tie grabs him and punches him in the face.

“Don’t?” Black Tie asks. “Don’t what? You don’t get a say in this, whore.”

“I can’t do it,” Changmin shouts, pushing him away. “Get off me!”

“Worthless little bitch,” Black Tie sneers, slamming a fist into his face again. Changmin yelps as blood spurts from his nose, desperate to get away.

The men around goad him, in a circle, pushing him back to the centre as he tries to get out, laughing like playground bullies. Changmin screams, panic rising and threatening to overwhelm. He couldn’t do what Jaejoong wanted. But he couldn’t walk out either. Exhausted, he falls to the floor, struggling weakly as his limbs are held down and his trousers are torn away. Changmin squeezes his eyes shut, and wonders if he’d be better off dead anyway.

*

Yunho pushes the door forward, revealing himself to the room. At least a dozen or so men are crowded together, their raucous laughter dying when they spot Yunho. And in the middle, held down to the floor, is Changmin, eyes closed and face wet with tears.

Everything Yunho had rehearsed to say seems to dissipate from his brain, and he strides over, forcing his way through the crowd, shoving at the men.

“Aren’t you Jung Yunho?” one of them asks uncertainly. “If you want first dibs, you have to pay-” He doesn’t get another word out as Yunho slams a fist into his jaw, leaving a satisfying crunching noise.

With shouts of anger, the rest of the businessmen- CEOs, managers, bankers- back off, alarmed, as Yunho grabs for Changmin. He does a quick check on Changmin, who’s bleeding from the nose and roughed up, but otherwise physically unharmed.

“If any you touch him, I will kill you,” he promises them with a snarl. He pulls Max- _Changmin_ \- to his feet, as the businessmen mill around uncertainly.

“You can’t do this!” one of them shouts. “We paid a fucking fortune, what gives you the right to take our property?”

“He is not _property_ ,” Yunho growls, wrapping his arm around Changmin as the younger man slumps. “I hope you bastards rot in hell.”

He ignores the angry buzz behind him, pulling Changmin with him so they can leave. Yunho’s heart races with adrenaline, merciful that the businessmen are too cowardly to fight him.

Changmin groans quietly as he limps towards the door, eyes darting about anxiously.

“It’s okay,” Yunho whispers. “It’s going to be alright, Max.”

“Yunho?” Changmin asks, dazed.

“You’re okay, Max, you’ll be fine, I promise,” Yunho says softly, reaching for the door handle.

Before his fingers connect, the door clicks open.

“Leaving so soon?” Jaejoong asks, eyes flashing with fury. Beside him, Changmin sags with fright, and Yunho tightens his grip around his waist.

“Jaejoong, you’d better explain,” one of the businessmen behind him snaps. “I didn’t pay for this shit!”

“Patience, gentlemen,” Jaejoong says. He slips into the room, closing the door behind. His normally calm and smug expression has been replaced with a mask of pure vehemence, and Yunho feels a wave of hatred that seeps right into his bones.

“Yunho, I thought we had a deal,” Jaejoong says softly, eyes flicking to Changmin.

“Deal’s off,” Yunho replies coolly. “Get the hell out of my way unless you want me to break your nose.”

“You know the consequences of your actions, I hope,” Jaejoong says. “Your company will burn to ashes, and you will be reduced to less than nothing, no better than the whores you used to hire!”

“Whatever you two are arguing about, save it,” one of the men behind says. “I’m getting the fuck out of here, and Jaejoong, I want a full refund with _interest_.”

“I know what will happen,” Yunho addresses Jaejoong, ignoring the man. “I don’t care.”

“All this for a filthy whore,” Jaejoong scoffs. “You have one last chance Yunho. Don’t give up your family inheritance for _this_!” He gestures at Changmin, who flinches.

“Move out of the way,” Yunho says firmly, thinking of the police who are on their way. He would have to deal with Jaejoong’s threats later; right now he needed to get himself and Changmin out of the room.

“Very well,” Jaejoong says, his face calm and collected once more. “I’m afraid the party’s over, gentlemen!” he calls to the room. Immediately, there’s a cacophony of discord from the businessmen. “Rest assured there will be full refunds and a discounted offer for any future purchases,” he continues over the noise, unfazed. Yunho shoves him aside, and Jaejoong stumbles, but catches at Yunho’s arm.

“Good luck, Jung,” he says. “You’re going to need it for the hell I will drag you through.”

Yunho thinks of the policemen on their way. “Save your well-wishes for yourself,” he spits out, and pulls Changmin with him, leaving the door to slam in Jaejoong’s face.

Changmin’s breathing seems to ease up a little more as they reach the hallway. He leans against the wall, shaking.

“No, we can’t stay here,” Yunho says, pull Changmin further away from the VIP suite. He ducks into a storeroom and takes a bathrobe and slippers for the younger man, who’s only wearing a pair of briefs and a dazed expression. The blood on his face had dried up so Yunho uses a flannel to wipe it off as best as he can, dumping the dirtied cloth into a nearby bin. Now that they’re out of immediate danger, the air thickens with tension as Yunho leads them both outside of the hotel. The cool air is a welcome balm to his frazzled nerves, especially when he can spot several police cars parked directly in front of the hotel’s entrance. They stick to the shadows, away from prying eyes.

“You came back,” Changmin says in a small voice. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Yunho mutters. Changmin reaches under his chin, lifting his face.

“Why?”

Yunho hesitates. “I didn’t want Jaejoong to hurt you anymore.”

“But now he’ll hurt you,” Changmin whispers. “This is my fault, Yunho, all of it-”

“Later,” Yunho interrupts, insides churning. “We’ll talk about this later.” Changmin pauses, hesitant. It’s not Max anymore- the mysterious, sexy man that had lured Yunho close. It was Changmin: more vulnerable, but the wisest and bravest man that Yunho knew. It was Changmin who Yunho had returned for, not Max. Heart tightening, he pulls the younger man closer into an embrace. Changmin falls into his arms, shaking.

“Yunho, they were going to- they were gonna hurt me,” he gasps. “Jaejoong didn’t leave any lube or condoms in the suite.”

Yunho’s hand clenches into a fist, and he forces himself to relax so as not to upset the other man. Opening his palm, he strokes his hand gently down the younger man’s back, murmuring soft words of comfort. “I’m so sorry, Max. Jaejoong won’t get away with this, I promise.”

They stay there with their arms wrapped around each other, even as the police exit the hotel. The businessmen who were in the VIP room before are being frog-marched out, their hands in cuffs and heads low in shame and humiliation. It’s a satisfying feeling, but it doesn’t compare when Yunho spots Jaejoong handcuffed as well. Unlike his fellow captives, Jaejoong’s head swivels back and forth, as if trying to find someone. Obligingly, Yunho steps out of his hiding place, expression stony as Jaejoong finally spots him. His eyes are wild with fury, lips curled back in a sneer.

_You will regret this,_ Jaejoong mouths. _I’ll destroy everything you have._

Yunho doesn’t react. He’s too tired of dealing with Jaejoong, simply watching as the other man is pushed into the backseat of a police car.

“Yunho?”

Yunho turns back to Changmin, taking his hand.

“Let’s go.”

*

“Heechul, I’m fine, okay? Stop hovering over me and get some rest,” Changmin tells his friend gently. The older male is currently fussing over his blankets, grumbling that the hospital ones were too rough.

“You’ve been through a lot, Minnie,” he tuts. “The least I can do is make sure you’re comfortable.”

Changmin smiles at this. “Hey, hyung,” he starts. “Is Yunho coming?”

Heechul pauses. “I don’t know, Changmin,” he says softly. “As soon as he made sure you were checked in, he left.”

“Oh,” Changmin murmurs. “Did he… I mean, did he mention coming back?”

Heechul nods. “He said he needed to sort things out with his company first.”

“I bet,” Changmin murmurs, twisting the fabric of his bedsheet anxiously. He would never forget the look of shock and hurt when he’d opened the door to inadvertedly reveal himself as Yunho’s traitor. The guilt seems to drench itself deep into his bones, and Changmin wonders if it’ll ever leave.

“Hey,” Heechul interrupts his thoughts. His eyes scan Changmin’s face, reading every expression. “Stop blaming yourself. Yunho came back for you, that has to mean something, doesn’t it?”

Changmin sighs. “I guess.” He looks away, unable to meet Heechul’s eyes. His heart skips when a beat when he spots Yunho at the door, bouquet in hand.

“Yunho!” Changmin blurts out. Heechul spins in surprise, hastily getting to his feet.

“Uh, I’ll give you two a moment,” he says. He pauses at the door to speak to Yunho, voice so low that Changmin can’t make out their conversation. Heechul pats Yunho on the back though, so Changmin takes it as a good sign.

“How are you feeling?” Yunho asks, stepping closer as Heechul shuts the door behind himself. His eyes are dark with exhaustion, day-old stubble greying his chin.

“I’m fine; they’re only keeping me for observation. I’ll be free to leave soon,” Changmin replies. He manages to smile as Yunho hands him the bouquet of freesias and white tulips.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, breathing in the fresh floral scent. “Reminds me of when I first went to your apartment.”

He cringes immediately. _Good work Shim, just remind him of how badly you betrayed him. That’ll really put you on the path to forgiveness._

Yunho hums in agreement, gesturing to the seat besides Changmin’s bed. “May I?”

“Of course,” Changmin says. Yunho settles onto the plastic chair, and they both stare at each for a moment.

“Where do I even start?” Changmin asks aloud.

Yunho shrugs. “How about the beginning? How did you meet Jaejoong? He mentioned you two are cousins.”

“Yeah, we are,” Changmin murmurs. “Our mothers are sisters. My mother passed away from a drug overdose when I was sixteen, so I took to working the streets for a living.” His cheeks warm with embarrassment; the memories weren’t exactly something one could boast about. Yunho takes his hand, giving a squeeze of encouragement. “That’s how I met Heechul. He was getting beat up by a rough customer, so I sent him packing. Then one time, I took too much. Drugs, I mean.” He swallows thickly. “I should have gone for help, but… I thought my time was up, you know? I figured dying wouldn’t be so bad. So I found a spot in some back alley and lay down to die.”

Yunho flinches at that.

“But Jaejoong found me. I didn’t know it then, but he’d been keeping an eye on me since my mother died. He got me into a hospital, sent me to rehab and looked after me until I could function.”

“He paid for all of this?” Yunho frowns.

Changmin nods. “I owe him everything, do you see? I was still a minor when he put me in rehab, so he was my legal guardian. He even has my passport and birth certificate locked up somewhere.”

“He used you from the beginning,” Yunho says, voice hard. “He’d been keeping an eye on you since your mother passed away, but didn’t intervene until you were almost dead yourself. Then he built you up again just so you could become a helpless puppet because of your debt.”

Changmin sighs. “Yes. When he told me he needed me to seduce someone in exchange for clearing my debt, I jumped at the chance. I didn’t even ask any questions.”

“I assume that someone was me,” Yunho says, expression carefully neutral when Changmin nods in confirmation. “Why me?”

“I don’t really know,” Changmin murmurs. “I guess he knew how wealthy you are. And he knew your… tastes.”

Yunho looks away at this, ashamed. “I suppose I had it coming,” he mutters. “Alright,” he sighs. “Okay. So you met me and worked to try and get information about my company?”

“Not just your company, specifically the company merger with Han Industries. But at the time all I was told was to get any material on your company’s plans for the Chinese market.”

“He wanted prevent my company from merging with Han so Siwon’s company could do the merger and have a drastic advantage in the Asian market,” Yunho says, clearly thinking out loud. “In return for… what? Siwon would pay him off?”

“I think Siwon promised him a small percentage of profits if the merger with his company went ahead,” Changmin says. “I heard him say he would give Jaejoong what he wanted as long as he finished whatever he had promised Siwon.”

“So it seems that Jaejoong promised to find out my company’s plans for the merger in exchange for money, enough money to live off for the rest of his life,” Yunho concludes. “Yeah, that sounds like Jaejoong.”

“He used you,” Changmin says softly.

“He used us both,” Yunho reminds him firmly. A flicker of hope kindles in Changmin’s chest. “And a few more of the boys he’d sent to me before you.”

“Do you forgive me?” he asks, unable to hold it in. Yunho looks away, considering.

“Give me some time,” he replies gently. Changmin nods. It was more than he’d ever hoped for. “Ma-Changmin,” Yunho corrects himself. “I’ve sorted out tickets and accommodation for yourself and Heechul to return to Korea. Your hospital bills have also been paid for, so don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you,” Changmin whispers.

“Meanwhile, I want you to keep a low profile, alright?” Yunho asks. “My company’s a mess at the moment; I’m missing key meetings as we speak. So I need to return to my office and deal with everything.”

“Is there anything I could do to help?” Changmin asks helplessly. “I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing,” Yunho says firmly. “I’ve had quite enough of debts and favours. Just focus on getting better, and stay with Heechul. I’ll contact you when I’m ready.”

“Alright,” Changmin murmurs, resolute to keep his word. Yunho stands, smoothing out the front of his shirt. He hesitates, as if wondering how to say goodbye. “Come here,” Changmin says softly, breath hitching as Yunho leans over him. He cups Yunho’s cheeks in his hands, stroking his thumbs over the older man’s face, offering his mouth up for a kiss. He wasn’t going to make any other move: that was for Yunho to decide.

Yunho pauses for a moment, contemplating. Then he pushes his lips to Changmin’s; chaste and sweet, handling him with care. Changmin sighs softly into his mouth, wanting to wrap his arms around Yunho’s neck. But he would wait to see if Yunho would let him. The older man flicks his tongue against the pressed seam of his lips, persistent until they share an open-mouthed kiss.

Panting, Yunho pulls away, eyes glazed with arousal. Changmin shivers with the loss of his warmth.

“Goodbye, Changmin,” Yunho whispers. He cups Changmin’s face for a moment, staring intently, as if trying to memorise every detail of his features. Then he stands, closing the door with a click behind him.

*

Yunho clips his seatbelt on as the pilot announces their imminent arrival in Korea. Beside him, Yoona thumbs over her Blackberry, frowning.

“Any news?” He asks.

“All the men caught at the hotel have been bailed out,” Yoona sighs. “I suppose that shouldn’t be a surprise, they all have enough money.”

“And Jaejoong?” Yunho persists, voice low. He’d had to fill in Yoona on a few more details- he owed her that much.

“No mention in the news so far, but my contact says he’s been bailed as well. I guess he has enough dirt on people to get the money.”

Yunho sighs, sinking back into his seat. He’d hoped for a head start, but Jaejoong couldn’t be too far behind.

“It’s going to be hell for a while,” he murmurs.

Yoona pops the Blackberry into her bag. “Well, I don’t get paid to sit around,” she shrugs. “We’ll find a way.”

“Thank you,” Yunho tells her haltingly, making a mental note to give her a raise and extended days off. “I mean it.” Yoona nods in acknowledgement, looking as awkward as he felt.

Weeks ago, Yunho would have laughed at the thought of Jaejoong threatening him. But now the other man was nipping at his heels, determined to bring him down. His company was possibly on the brink of collapse, the person he had loved had betrayed him and was left lying in a hospital.

Yunho runs a shaky hand through his hair, breathless with stress and anxiety.

The aeroplane shakes as they touch down, engines whirring.

Time to get to work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The meaning of the bouquet that Yunho gave Changmin:  
> Freesias: trust, fidelity  
> White tulips: forgiveness
> 
> We're almost at the end of the fic~!
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


	8. Chapter 8

“Hyung, it’s been _weeks_ ,” Changmin sighs, feeling jittery with stress. “Yunho still hasn’t been in contact.”

Heechul sends him a pitying glance from where he’s cooking in the open-plan kitchen of Yunho’s apartment. “He said he’d contact you when he’s ready. You can’t do anything but wait.”

When they’d returned to Korea, a sober-looking man in a suit had picked them up from the airport, on behalf of Jung Corporations. Handing Changmin a key, he’d taken them to Yunho’s apartment building, where they had been staying for almost a month, as per Yunho’s wishes.

 _Changmin,_ he’d written on a note left for them inside his apartment. _Please stay here with Heechul until I’ve sorted things out with my company. I don’t know how long it will take, but I’ll feel better if I know you’re staying somewhere safe. Very few people know about this location. I’ll speak with you soon. -Yunho_

Following that had been a detailed explanation of their provisions: each week, a small amount of money was transferred into Heechul’s account that they could use for groceries and the like. Any further requests would be made through Yoona, Yunho’s PA. It was inevitably stifling, but Changmin and Heechul had mutually agreed to keep a low profile until Yunho was sure things had blown over.

With a sigh, Changmin flops onto a chair by the dining table, stomach twisting as he remembers cooking with Yunho in this exact spot.

“You miss him, don’t you?” Heechul asks softly, setting down plates of their dinner.

“Thanks for the food,” Changmin avoids the question. Heechul sighs.

“Are we still not going to talk about this?” he tuts, picking up his chopsticks.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Changmin snaps. “I betrayed him and he’s still protecting me after all that I’ve done to him,” he says. “I owe him everything.”

“The last time I heard you say that was when you were working for Jaejoong,” Heechul says sharply. “This is different. Yunho actually cares about you. I was sceptical at first, but now I’m sure of it.”

“I should be helping him at least,” Changmin pokes at his rice, appetite fading. “Instead I’m staying in his apartment like his secret sugar baby.”

“What can you possibly help with?” Heechul points out gently. “He’s wrapped up with his company right now, the most helpful thing you can do is to keep a low profile. We’ve been over this.”

“I know,” Changmin says, with a sigh. “It’s just hard. I feel so useless.”

“When the time comes, Yunho said he will get in contact,” Heechul reminds him. “For now, just focus on yourself. There’s a storm brewing, and it’s not going to be easy on anyone.”

Changmin nods reluctantly. As much as he wanted to, there was really nothing he could do to help the businessman. All he could do was sit and wait.

*

It’s almost midnight when Yunho finally notices the time.

“Alright, everyone, go home,” he tells his staff, feeling guilty when he spots their expressions of relief. “Don’t come in till noon tomorrow.”

They bid him a hasty farewell, but Yoona lingers.

“Are you going to stay here?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Yunho sighs. “I have to.”

“You need some rest as well,” Yoona reminds him quietly. The skin under her eyes is dark with a lack of sleep, her lips chapped and pale.

“I’ll be fine,” Yunho shrugs. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His dismissal is gentle but firm, so Yoona nods, closing his office door behind with a soft click. Left alone, Yunho closes his eye, letting his shoulders sag with exhaustion. Since returning to Korea, he’d made preparations for Changmin and Heechul, then focused entirely on securing his company. He didn’t know what Jaejoong would do, so every precaution had to be taken, meaning he and his staff were forced to work overtime for almost a month. Yunho’s still surprised nobody has quit yet, though he suspects that his promises for increased salaries and longer holidays has some incentive. It’s true, he finds, that difficult situations really show who is on your side. Yoona, in particular, had risen spectacularly to the occasion, unafraid to take charge. Her loyalty to his company is a welcome revelation, and Yunho has never been more grateful to her.

It’s almost two in the morning when Yunho finally signs off several documents, deciding to crash at his office once more. He lies down on the wide sofa, forearm slung across his eyes. He feels tired to the bone, but for some reason, sleep seems to evade him. Yunho tosses on the leather seating, glad that that his workaholic tendencies had required a bathroom with shower suite in his office.

In the quiet darkness of the room, Yunho thinks of Changmin, wondering what the other man was doing. True to his word, he hadn’t reached out to Yunho, giving him space. In all honesty, Yunho hasn’t had much time to think about the younger man’s betrayal, too busy with work commitments. But left alone with only his thoughts for company, Yunho can’t stop thinking about Changmin. He thumbs at his phone, squinting as the bright screen blares into his retinas. Without thinking, he searches for Changmin’s number, pausing over the series of digits.

Would the younger man still be up at this time? Probably not. Suddenly Yunho misses Changmin with an aching heart; misses the way Changmin would wrap him in his arms and murmur soft words, kissing his temples until he fell asleep.

He’s calling Changmin before he even realises what he’s doing.

“H-Hello?” Changmin picks up, voice rough with sleep. Yunho had obviously woken him up.

Yunho licks his lips, heart bursting at the sound of his voice. “Changmin.”

“Yunho?” Changmin asks softly. “Are you alright?”

“I-I miss you,” Yunho blurts, voice hitching. “I want to see you.”

“Where are you?” Changmin asks, and Yunho can hear the sound of bedsprings as the younger man sits up. He closes his eyes, wishing he had more self-control when it came to the other man.

“My office,” he whispers.

“Can I- Is it alright for me to come over?” Changmin asks him, hesitant.

“Please,” Yunho says, eyes squeezed shut. He listens as Changmin promises to be there soon.

It feels like eternity, but it can’t be more than twenty minutes before Changmin is pressing the intercom to be let into the company headquarters. Yunho stands, not knowing what to say as Changmin opens the door to his office, eyes wide.

“Hello,” Changmin says softly, a small smile on his lips. He steps closer, hesitant.

Yunho closes the gap between them, sinking into Changmin’s embrace. Of all the words he thought he’d say, he never thought silence would be the greeting he gave the younger man.

“Oh, Yunho,” Changmin whispers, pressing impossibly closer. Yunho moans a little, not with arousal but just the sheer joy of being held by the other man once again. He sinks to his knees, pressing his face to the warm stomach of the younger man.

“Yunho,” Changmin murmurs again.

“Shh,” Yunho whispers. “Please. Just let me…”

Changmin says nothing, lightly running his fingers through Yunho’s hair. Shivering, Yunho manages to pull himself together and gets to his feet again, reassured that Changmin’s presence wasn’t a cruel trick his mind was playing on him.

“I missed you too,” Changmin says softly, face glowing from the moonlight that streams through the window.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come,” Yunho says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have come,” Changmin admits. “But I can’t say I’m sorry.” With a little laugh, Yunho takes his hand and leads him to the sofa, where they curl up together, fingers entwined.

“I still have so much to do,” Yunho mutters, glancing at the long table in his office that’s covered in documents and papers. “Legal contracts to be verified and-”

“Not tonight,” Changmin murmurs. “Let’s just… be together right now.”

Yunho closes his eyes, feeling the tension drain from his body as Changmin presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Yun,” Changmin murmurs. “You’re suffering so much because of me.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Yunho says honestly. “I didn’t know how to live before I met you.”

“I wish we could have met another way,” Changmin says regretfully. “In a coffee shop. At a bar. Anything but this.” He strokes his hand down Yunho’s side, slowly and gently. Yunho sighs in contentment, pressing closer to the younger man.

“There’s no point thinking like that,” Yunho chides him slightly. “Let’s just appreciate what we have now.”

It’s a phrase Yunho doesn’t think he’s ever used before. After years of living in luxury and buying only the best of what money could give him, it was a totally foreign concept to simply enjoy his current possessions, instead of looking for the next materialistic goods that would ultimately be worth nothing.

Changmin hums in agreement, sliding down on the sofa comfortably, pulling Yunho on top. Their crotches bump against each other and Yunho pauses, uncertain. He’s already half-hard just from holding the other man in his arms, but the last sexual contact Changmin had experienced had been a terrifying ordeal for the younger man. Feeling guilty, Yunho begins to pull away, stopping only when Changmin grabs his wrist.

“It’s okay” he whispers in the dark office. “I’m fine if it’s you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Yunho murmurs, kissing Changmin’s lips softly.

“You won’t. Please,” Changmin gasps, kissing him deeper. Yunho groans at his taste, pressing the younger man deeper into the leather seating.

“You’re mine,” he growls, nipping at Changmin’s neck, making him cry out. God, the sound of him. It had been far too long since he’d last heard that.

“Yours,” Changmin pants, flushed and sweating. “Make me yours, Yun.”

Yunho groans, wishing he had lube with him. As desperate as he was to be sheathed inside the other man, it wasn’t an option right now. But still, he reasons with himself. That didn’t mean they couldn’t get off.

He kisses Changmin almost brutally, until the other’s lips are swollen and plump. They scrabble to pull down their trousers, gasping as their heated skin brush together.

“Oh, Changmin,” Yunho groans. He spits into his hand, then grasps their cocks together. His rhythm is hard and fast, the pace steady and unrelenting. Changmin whines, hips bucking. This wasn’t the slow love-making Yunho had desired, but it wasn’t the meaningless sex he’d experienced in the past either. This was catharsis: two broken people who had been hurt and looking to heal together.

Changmin grips at his hand, tugging alongside with him. They kiss sloppy and wet, hips grinding and bodies shaking.

“Close,” Yunho pants.

“Yunho, oh, Yunho,” Changmin moans, and then his back arches as he comes, legs twitching. Yunho kisses him through it, breaking away only to cry out as orgasm sweeps through him, leaving him weak.

They lay together catching their breath, until Changmin pulls away to get a tissue and clean them up, curling up against Yunho when he’s done.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

Yunho bites down his lip. Before, he’d been so sure of his love for Changmin. And he had no doubt of his deep affection for the younger man, but he couldn’t forget the way Changmin had used him for so long, even if he wasn’t all to blame. He wants to return the sentiment and tell Changmin he loves him, but there’s a part of him that holds back, reluctant.

“Let’s get some rest,” he says instead, reaching for a blanket he keeps on the sofa. Changmin nods, noticing his quick change of topic, but deciding to say nothing.

They lay together with the moonlight washing over their bodies, breaths slowing and softening.

*

Yunho wakes when Yoona shakes him. Changmin is gone, and bright sunlight streams through his windows. For a brief moment, Yunho wonders if last night had been a dream, but there’s a spot on his neck that’s throbbing gently from Changmin’s bite.

“Sir, you need to get up now,” Yoona says, face furrowed. Yunho sits up, brushing away the crumbs of sleep from his eyes. He takes in her agitated expression and frowns, heart sinking.

“It’s started, hasn’t it?” He asks, fears confirmed when Yoona nods, handing him several newspapers.

_JUNG CORPORATIONS STOCKS PLUMMET AS BUISNESS PLANS ARE LEAKED ONLINE_

_CEO JUNG YUNHO ACCUSED OF MISMANAGEMENT AS HIS COMPANY FALLS APART_

Yunho sighs, tossing the papers away. “Alright, damage control. How bad is it?”

“As bad as we predicted, so at least there are no nasty surprises,” Yoona tells him.

“Not yet,” Yunho mutters, getting to his feet and slipping on his shoes.

“One more thing,” Yoona hesitates. “President Han is in Korea. He wants to meet with you.”

Yunho blinks. “Han as in Han industries? Why would he want to talk to me now? Hasn’t he heard the news?”

Yoona shrugs. “He said he wants to talk to you _because_ of the news.”

Yunho frowns. “Alright, schedule a business lunch-”

“Actually, sir,” Yoona interrupts. “He’s waiting in the lobby right now.”

“What?” Yunho quickly changes into a new shirt, allowing Yoona to hastily attach his tie as he slings on his jacket. She ushers him out of the room, promising to hold down the fort until he got back, looking as confused as he felt.

Completely alone, Han is calmly inspecting a few abstract paintings in the reception area when Yunho comes out to meet him.

“Mr Han,” he says smoothly, as if he hasn’t worked non-stop for almost a month. “How can I help you?”

Han turns, smiling, returning his greetings with a quick bow. “These paintings,” he says, voice soft with his Chinese accent. “They’re real, are they not?”

“Yes, they are,” Yunho frowns. “My father bought them before I inherited the company. I didn’t have much say in it.”

“So why didn’t you change it when you took over?”

“There didn’t seem to be a need,” Yunho answers, brow furrowed. “Pardon me for presuming, but I don’t think you came here to pick up tips on interior design.”

Han smiles. “You’re right. Is there someplace private we could talk?”

Yunho leads him to an empty meeting room, and Han politely declines his offer of tea. Yunho sits across from the other man, who he knows to be of a similar age to himself. “So what is this about?”

“For months, we’ve been in talks to merge our companies for a mutual advancement in the Asian market,” Han begins, leaning forward. “And all of a sudden, the very week before the merger was due, I hear that your company backed out, only to be replaced by Choi Corporations.” He raises his eyebrows. “It seemed suspicious, so I came to ask you for the full details.”

Yunho hesitates. “It’s… it’s complicated.”

“Undoubtedly,” Han says ruefully. “But I need to know what’s best for my company. I just can’t understand how this came about. And now I find out this morning that your business plans have all been leaked online?” He shakes his head. “Do you have a company mole?”

“No,” Yunho states firmly. “We were… Somebody is wreaking revenge on me and this is the result.”

Han steeples his fingers together, suddenly focusing on him intently. “I see.”

Yunho sighs. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t tell you any more than that. But if you’re worried about Choi’s offer, I’m sure your lawyers can work something out. My company’s troubles will not affect you.”

Han smiles again, as if he was expecting to hear that. Yunho frowns, realising that perhaps Han wasn’t here just to talk about his business. “What’s going on?”

“Tell me about Max,” Han suggests. Yunho freezes.

“I- How do you know about him?”

Han chuckles. “Yunho, do you really think you’re the only one with money and connections? After all the chaos you caused back in China, did you really think I wouldn’t do my own investigations?”

Yunho shifts in his chair, embarrassed. In truth, he had barely thought about Han in the past few weeks, too focused on the problems at hand. “What do you want to know about Max?” Yunho asks, heart sinking. Just weeks ago he would have arrogantly offered money in exchange for silence, but this was no longer a stable option.

Han holds up a hand, as if to reassure him. “Please, I have no interest in harming Shim Changmin.”

His words are gentle, but Yunho instantly notices Han’s use of Changmin’s real name; a quiet reminder of his power. “So what do you want?”

“Let me explain. You and I, we’re a little similar,” Han says. “We grew up to inherit our father’s companies- we had no choice. It was what was expected, and we simply achieved what was expected of us.”

“Get to the point,” Yunho says through gritted teeth. He can’t tell if the other man is about to threaten him, and the tension is making his body ache.

“When I took over the company, I found out a few…unsavoury things, shall we say, that my father had done. If his past actions ever become public, it could compromise my company’s reputation and our position in the market,” Han explains, eyes dark. “I won’t disclose the finer details. But one way or another, Jaejoong-”

“Has the information,” Yunho finishes for him, putting two and two together. His eyes widen- Han could prove to be a useful ally.

Han nods. “So another thing we have in common: We both wish to bring Jaejoong down. When I found out Jaejoong was involved with your incident in China, I had to speak with you.”

“And where do I come in this?” Yunho asks, frowning. With his company on the brink of collapse, he couldn’t see any contribution he could make that would be useful. “What could I possibly offer that you don’t already-” He pauses, all the hope that had suddenly built up abruptly fading, like a flame put out by a splash of cold water. “You want Changmin.”

“I want to talk with him,” Han says. “That’s all. My people couldn’t find him, but I have a feeling you know where he is.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Yunho says, shaking his head. “He’s already been through so much.”

“I just want information on Jaejoong,” Han insists. “We managed to find a few of the people that Jaejoong… employs. But they were too frightened to tell us anything. And I’m not the police; I can’t bring anyone in for an interrogation.”

“No,” Yunho says firmly. “He’s somewhere safe. And he’ll remain there until this all blows over.”

Han raises his eyebrows. “And when do you think this will all... ‘blow over’? Another month? A year? Your company could fall apart, and if it does, what protection can you offer Changmin then?”

Yunho says nothing, biting his lips. Once again, he found his hands tied.

“I’m offering you whatever help your company needs,” Han says softly. “But whether you agree to let me speak with Changmin, know that I will continue to chase after Jaejoong, no matter what. The blackmail he has on my father…” Han hesitates. “It would destroy me.”

“This will never be over until we put Jaejoong in prison,” Yunho realises out loud. “He’s always going to keep coming back, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Han says soberly. “That’s why I want Changmin’s help. Whatever information he can give me could help to bring Jaejoong down.”

“Let me speak with him first,” Yunho says softly. “But what if he says no?”

“Then any offer I made to help you and your company will have been revoked,” Han says seriously. “I will continue to go after Jaejoong and if either of you get caught in the crossfire, then it is none of my concern. But if you help me,” Han continues, “Then I will offer any protection you or Changmin may require. I can save your company if needed.”

“Your father must have done some real shit,” Yunho mutters.

Han laughs, without any humour. “You have no idea.”

Yunho nods. “Alright. I’ll talk things through with Changmin, then I’ll get back to you.”

“I will give you twenty four hours,” Han says quietly. “I can’t wait forever.”

“We are businessmen, after all,” Yunho replies. They shake hands, closing yet another deal.

*

When Yunho explains everything to Changmin and Heechul, they both have starkly different reactions.

“No way,” Heechul snaps. “Forget it. As if Changmin hasn’t gone through enough shit, you want him to be used yet again!”

“This could very the very last time,” Yunho points out wearily.

“And if it doesn’t work?” Heechul snarls. “Then what?”

“I don’t know,” Yunho has to admit.

“Well, it’s not good enough!”

Changmin says nothing throughout their exchange. His head is downcast, hands balled into fists by his side as he leans against the kitchen counter.

“Changmin?” Yunho asks softly. “We have to decide soon.”

“If I do this,” Changmin murmurs, thinking out loud. “Han could rescue your company.”

“Don’t think about my company,” Yunho says firmly. “Just… what do you want? For yourself?”

“I want to be with you,” Changmin says softly. “Whatever it takes.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Heechul rolls his eyes. With a sigh, he leaves the kitchen, realising the intimate conversation that they would have.

“I’m not going to lie; I really don’t want to talk to Han,” Changmin continues. “I’m tired of all this.” He closes his eyes, and Yunho steps closer, allowing the younger man to settle into his embrace. “But this could be our chance to get rid of Jaejoong once and for all. And I don’t want you to continue suffering because of me.”

He lifts his head to meet Yunho’s gaze. “Tell Han I’ll talk to him. Tell him I’ll answer any question he has.”

Yunho sighs, wondering if he should feel grateful or not. “Are you sure?”

Changmin nods. “Yeah. Let’s put an end to this, Yun.”

“You’re so brave,” Yunho murmurs, kissing him softly.

“Only because you give me courage,” Changmin replies, with a small smile.

“I’ll be by your side the whole time,” Yunho promises, squeezing the younger man’s hands in his. “We’ll do this together.”

Changmin nods, pulling him in for a kiss.

In the stillness of the kitchen, Yunho wonders if they really had met in a coffee shop or in a bar as Changmin had yearned for. Would their relationship still be as it was now? Unlikely. They wouldn’t even be the same people. For better or worse, their relationship together wouldn’t be the same if it weren’t for all the external factors that had pulled them together in the first place.

With sudden clarity, Yunho realises that he loves the man he holds in his arms. For a long time, he had lived his life in isolation, in selfishness and greed. But Changmin made him a better person, someone who loved and would die to protect the ones he truly cared about. The revelation makes Yunho pause, mouth hovering over Changmin’s.

“What are you thinking about?” Changmin asks, pulling away slightly.

“I love you,” Yunho whispers. Changmin’s eyes go wide, blinking in surprise. “I’m sorry I had to tell you like this,” Yunho continues. “So many things keep getting between us, but as long as I have you with me… I feel like we can get through this. Together.”

“Oh Yunho, I love you,” Changmin sighs into his mouth, smiling wider than Yunho had ever seen.

It’s not the most romantic of confessions, nor is it the start of a happily ever after. But standing together in the kitchen, hands entwined and souls interlaced, Yunho thinks perhaps it’s still as close to nirvana he’s ever felt before.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Jaejoong slips into the private booth of Siwon’s restaurant, where the businessman is calmly eating his dinner, a couple of bodyguards waiting several feet away. He looks up as Jaejoong sits down, silently putting down his chopsticks and pouring him a cup of tea. Jaejoong scowls, wanting to tip the teapot over and send it crashing to the ground. But he has no power here, not anymore.

“Long time no see,” Siwon says eventually. “How have you been?”

“Cut the bullshit,” Jaejoong snaps. “You asked me to come; I’m here. What do you want?”

“Very well. If you don’t wish to use your manners, then neither will I,” Siwon says coolly. “Several months ago, I made quite a heavy investment in you. You promised me Jung Yunho, and all I have in return is to bail you out of a Chinese prison.”

“A small mistake,” Jaejoong counters. It won’t happen again.”

Siwon scoffs. “Of course not. I wouldn’t allow it.” He leans forward, the angles of his face seeming more sharp under the light directly above their table. “I’m a businessman, Jaejoong. I have spent my whole life learning about making deals and by far, you were the one I regret the most.”

“I hope you won’t mind if I don’t particularly care,” Jaejoong replies angrily. “Your problems are nothing.”

“Compared to you, I’d be inclined to agree,” Siwon shrugs. “Yet I do think there’s a way out of this that will keep us both happy.”

“Oh?” Jaejoong raises his eyebrows, trying not to look too keen. But Siwon sees right through it instantly; they both know Jaejoong is out of options.

“Han refused to sign with me,” Siwon says slowly. “I’m going to need more ammunition.”

Jaejoong settles back into his chair, a smile spreading over his face. “I can help you with that.”

“You have dirt on him, don’t you?” Siwon asks, his thoughts confirmed when Jaejoong neglects to give him a straight answer, instead smirking confidently. “I thought as much. You have dirt on almost every figure of influence in the Korean economy.”

“The whole _Asian_ economy,” Jaejoong brags. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to play all those wealthy businessmen.”

“But not Jung Yunho,” Siwon points out. Jaejoong doesn’t reply to that, but a flicker of anger crosses his face at the mention of his name. Siwon decides to change to subject again. “I assume this blacklist of yours is… detailed?”

“Extensively,” Jaejoong tells him.

It’s clearly an exaggeration, but Siwon doesn’t press it- even a small amount of blackmail material on the right people would be enough for his needs. “I want you to give me everything you own- every piece of blackmail, anything of importance that will give my company leverage.”

“ _All_ of it?” Jaejoong repeats, furious. “What the fuck makes you think I’m going to agree to that?”

Siwon sips his tea, unhurried. “Jaejoong, you’ve been running an illegal prostitute bar and also dealt drugs for the past decade or so. I could very easily let that information slip to the police.”

“You’re no innocent, yourself,” Jaejoong spits.

“No,” Siwon agrees. “But I also have very good lawyers, enough money to bribe the entire police force, as well as a few good friends who hold high positions in court. I’m willing to bet that I could come out of this unscathed. But you?” He smirks, not needing to say anymore.

“You utter bastard,” Jaejoong breathes. After the incident in China, his business had plummeted, and even his club was practically empty, since the main clientele were those willing to pay for prostitutes behind closed doors. He had almost nothing; those files were his last playing card, and Siwon had taken it right from his hands. “I suppose I have no choice, do I?”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Siwon sits back, pleased. “Don’t worry, I’m a fair man. I’ll keep the files and you get to keep your dirty little whorehouse.”

“Fine,” Jaejoong stands. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going.” He turns to leave.

“Oh, Jaejoong,” Siwon calls after him. “Make sure the files you give me are the only copy. I’ll know eventually if they are.” He smiles, almost warmly, but the threat is obvious.

Jaejoong says nothing, gritting his teeth and leaving the smug businessman behind.

*

In the privacy of Yunho’s hotel apartment, Han begins his questioning.

Yunho was accustomed to meeting with businessmen from all over the world: men and women with impressive connections and sharp minds. After all, it wasn’t possible to achieve such esteemed positions without the brains to back it up. But watching Han interview Changmin was something else. He was perceptive yet delicate, unafraid to ask harsh questions about Changmin’s less-than-savoury past, but eased off the pressure when he sensed the questioning was getting too difficult. Feeling rather useless, Yunho finds himself in the kitchen area, giving Heechul a helping hand with tea.

“Changmin seems to be doing alright,” Heechul murmurs, tapping his fingers on the countertop as he waits for the kettle to boil. Yunho casts a glance at the younger man, who, despite his weary expression, is leaning forward and speaking earnestly with the Chinese businessman.

“I guess,” Yunho mutters, unable to douse the anxiety swirling in the pit of his stomach.

Heechul sighs, tossing the tea leaves into a pot and pouring the hot water over them. “This had better work.”

“We’ll find out,” Yunho murmurs. He places the pot and a few cups onto a tray, balancing it carefully in his hands.

“So Jaejoong keeps most of his documents at his office in the club he owns?” Han is asking, a spark of interest in his eyes.

“Don’t bother,” Heechul calls. “We broke in once and only found the stuff we were looking for because Jaejoong knew we were coming. He’s smart; he’d know better than to keep any sensitive files there.”

Clearly disappointed, Han sits back in his chair, nodding his thanks to Yunho for the tea. “And his personal residence?”

Changmin shakes his head. “Unlikely. I doubt Jaejoong would keep any blackmail in an obvious place. He must have hidden it somewhere. I would bet he carries it around on his USB stick, he keeps everything on there. But I don’t know where the USB stick would be.”

“I hate to be the one to say this,” Yunho starts, frowning. “But there’s also a possibility that the files aren’t even together in one place. They could be on multiple computers, USB sticks, or physical paper files scattered across the country, for all we know. Maybe all of the above. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“You’re right,” Han sighs. He slips off his glasses and rubs at his temples wearily. “This could go on for decades, assuming Jaejoong decides not to spill my father’s secrets.”

Changmin sits up straighter, placing a hand on Yunho’s knee to steady himself. “Okay, we need to backtrack. We know the basics: Jaejoong used me to prevent Yunho’s business merger with Han Industries so that Choi’s company could take his place instead. And in return, Jaejoong gets a cut of profit, allowing him to live comfortably for the rest of his life.”

“And it backfires,” Yunho says darkly. “Jaejoong had to be bailed out of prison by Siwon, my PA managed to find out.”

“Wait, Siwon?” Heechul interrupts. “His name is Choi Siwon?”

Han blinks. “You know him?”

Heechul tilts his head to the side, thinking. Then he shakes himself, as if clearing his head. “Oh, erm- I must have read his name in the paper at some point.”

“Anyway,” Yunho directs the conversation back to the important topics. “Han hasn’t signed with Choi Corporations. Meaning Siwon still hasn’t gained anything from his gamble with Jaejoong.”

“Bet he’s not happy about that,” Heechul snorts.

“Jaejoong will still be indebted to Siwon,” Changmin starts slowly. “I mean, it’s not like he can offer anything that Siwon doesn’t already have access to.”

“Except for sensitive files on some of the most prominent figures in the Asian economy,” Han says, eyes wide. “If Siwon has access to it, he has enough blackmail to use that would put his company far above anyone else’s. That must be it!”

It’s as if a lightbulb has been flicked on. After hours of questioning Changmin, talking things out together and going through the past events over and over again- they finally have an answer.

“Siwon has the files,” Yunho whispers.

“Alright, we need to find out where Siwon keeps them exactly,” Han Geng says. “If he has all of Jaejoong’s information, I’m willing to bet it’s not all on paper; they’d be too many. It’s most likely on a memory stick.”

“Siwon keeps everything on his laptop,” Yunho recalls, having crossed career paths with the other man on numerous occasions. “So it’s either that or an USB.”

“It’ll be a USB,” Changmin says confidently. “Jaejoong doesn’t keep anything on his phone in case it gets stolen. And he’s unlikely to email so much information to Siwon, so it _has_ to be a USB stick.”

“Okay, that narrows it down,” Heechul says. “I don’t’ imagine that’s something he would leave laying around in his office. It must be at his apartment.”

“So now we need a plan to break into his place, huh?” Changmin asks, tone flat. Yunho glances at him. His body is drooping, jaw rigid as if he was almost angry. Yunho goes to him, lifting a hand and gently squeezes Changmin’ shoulder. With a barely audible sigh, Changmin seems to relax just a fraction, as if gaining strength from his touch.

“We’ll think about that next time,” Yunho says. “We’ve already made great progress today. This is almost over, I promise.” He glances at Han Geng, who nods, mutually agreeing to end the day there.

Utterly exhausted and mentally and emotionally drained, Changmin retires to sleep, only nodding numbly when Yunho murmurs to him and quietly pulls him to the bedroom. The door closes, leaving the couple some privacy. Left alone with Heechul, Han stands awkwardly.

“I should leave,” he says, gathering the documents they had laid out on the table top. He makes a move to gather the dirty cups, but Heechul waves him off.

“Leave it, I’ll need something to do before the lovebirds are done,” he says drily. “I’ll see you to the door.” He grabs the keys, and hums nonchalantly as the wait for the private elevator.

“I forgot to ask,” Han speaks up conversationally. “How do you know Changmin?”

Heechul hesitates. “We… used to work together.”

“Oh, I see,” Han says, obviously not understanding. “For which company?”

Heechul sighs. He might as well tell the truth. “I meant on the streets.” He turns back to Han, whose face is still blank. “You know… sucking dick to pay my bills?”

Han flushes a bright red, spluttering. “Oh, you’re a- I mean-” It’s obvious he’s struggling to choose the right word: _Prostitute? Whore?_

“I _was_ ,” Heechul corrects him quietly. “Changmin once saved my life on the streets. And now he’s saved me again.” He sighs, wondering exactly what he’d done for his younger friend that even compared to what Changmin had done for him. “I owe him so much, Mr. Han.”

“It’s Han Geng,” Han says softly. “My name.”

Heechul blinks in surprise as they step into the elevator. “Uh, okay. Han Geng it is then. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What did your father do, exactly?” He blurts out, unable to resist. Heechul hesitates, knowing he has absolutely no right to ask, but he still can’t help himself. “I mean, he didn’t… kill someone, right?”

Han Geng gazes at him with sharp eyes. The small space in the elevator seems to shrink even more, and Heechul regrets everything instantly.

“This is a very private matter, Heechul,” Han Geng says finally.

“Yeah, I know,” Heechul mutters. “Sorry for being curious.” To his utter surprise, Han Geng actually laughs a little, before his face sobers once more.

“How about this: I’ll answer your question if you answer mine?”

“Alright,” Heechul agrees warily.

“How do you really know Siwon?” Han Geng asks, looking amused as Heechul chokes. “And don’t try to deny it; I saw your reaction when you heard his name.”

“You’re very perceptive,” he has to admit. Hang Geng really laughs out loud at that. He wonders if he should really tell the truth, but in return for having his curiosity quenched… “I, uh, serviced him in the past.”

The smile on Han Geng’s face slips off instantly. Irritated, Heechul storms out of the elevator and strides out of the hotel, waiting until Han Geng has numbly passed his valet ticket to a waiting bellboy. “Look, I’m not exactly proud of my past, but you have no fucking right to judge me. I did what I had to,” he snaps, turning to go back inside.

“No, wait!” Han Geng grabs his arm. “I didn’t mean any offence.”

“Well, that’s not how I interpreted you reaction,” Heechul rolls his eyes. “Get off me.”

“I thought you wanted to hear about my father?” Han Geng dangles the bait.

“Oh fuck you,” Heechul groans. “Either tell me or I’m going to go back up.” He eyes the sleek, dark car that pulls up to the hotel, giving a low whistle of appreciation as the bellboy hops out, passing the key to Han Geng with a quick bow.

“Get in,” Han Geng suggests, noticing his reaction. Heechul sighs, and barely hesitates before getting in, almost moaning at the touch of the slick leather seating.

“My father was not a kind man,” Han Geng starts, pulling away from the kerb. “I barely saw him during my childhood; he sent me away to boarding schools even when he wasn’t away on business trips.”

“God, all of you company heirs have the same sob story,” Heechul mutters. “No offence, but this sounds like the start of a really shit drama.”

He’s surprised again when Han Geng actually laughs, not seeming to mind his sharp tongue. “The point it, not all of the trips abroad where about business,” he continues, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I found out much later that my father liked to gamble. Once, he lost almost everything- company assets, family heirlooms, even the money he had put aside for my education.”

“Jesus,” Heechul mutters, glancing across at the other man. He could have turned out so differently.

“Yeah, you can imagine the trouble he was in,” Han Geng states drily. “But although my father was a gambler, he was also a very shrewd businessman. He began dealing drugs to make up the money- and it worked, to a certain extent.

“He had the money, but he was also involved with a lot of illegal dealings that could take it all away again if his activities were exposed. So he framed one of his business partners.”

“You mean, he betrayed him?” Heechul asks, shocked. Han Geng nods sadly.

“Yes. He turned his back on his friend to get himself out of trouble. His friend was sentenced to life in prison- he’s the one who reached out to me after my father passed. I didn’t believe him at first, but after doing my own research…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Furthermore, my father stole money from the company to pay off the drug dealers so they wouldn’t bother him again. He made the money up quickly enough that nobody really noticed.” Han Geng sighs. “It was my father who made the company into what it is today. So on one hand, the business is built on lies and deceit, but on the other hand, it’s not something I would want the public to know. The Chinese are very superstitious as well; if they knew about the dishonest foundations of my company, no one would want to do business with us again.”

“Shit,” is all Heechul can say. He gazes out of the window, wondering how Han Geng had managed to deal with such confliction in his heart, by himself and for so long.

“There’s another thing I wanted to talk about,” Hang Geng says.

“I’m not your fucking therapist,” Heechul mutters. Han Geng ignores that.

“Before, you mentioned that you know Siwon,” he starts. “Do you know where he lives?”

“I know where he used to live,” Heechul shrugs. “I know what you’re thinking, but trust me, I’m no use to you.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Han Geng murmurs, sending him a look that Heechul can’t decipher.

“What are you thinking about?”

“An idea just occurred to me,” Han Geng starts, looking nervous. Heechul says nothing, simply waiting. “I was thinking you could meet Siwon again, under the pretence of- well,” he pauses.

“Under the pretence of letting him fuck me for money, yeah,” Heechul finishes crassly. “And why the fuck would I do that?”

Han Geng patiently explains the rest of the plan to him, and Heechul thinks it over, letting the words sink in. Eventually, he has to admit- it could really work. He bites his lip, debating internally. Although he had absolutely no intention of seeing that creep ever again, there was still a chance the plan would succeed- and this would be the end of their problem with Jaejoong, once and for all.

“Alright,” he says finally, as Han Geng makes yet another turn around the hotel. “I’ll do it, but on one condition: just the two of us. We don’t involve Yunho or Changmin, we don’t even tell them.”

“Why?” Han Geng frowns. “They’re the ones who would be the most affected, surely they need to know?”

“Changmin’s already been through hell and back without getting him involved with this cloak-and-dagger shit. I didn’t even want him to speak to you. And Yunho-” he scoffs. “Knowing that oaf, he’d just insist on getting involved and messing everything up. So: we do this ourselves and that’s it.”

“I still think we should tell them,” Han Geng murmurs, but Heechul shakes his head.

“Look, if I get caught, Siwon still won’t know I’m doing this for Yunho and Changmin. I’ll just pretend to be some thieving whore he won’t need to worry about.”

“And if you get arrested for stealing?”

Heechul stares back, defiant. “Then you’d better fucking bail me out.”

Han Geng smiles. “Okay. I can do that.”

Heechul settles back in his seat. He keeps his facial expression dismissive, but inside, his nerves are already in full drive, making his stomach squirm. “And we keep this to ourselves, right?”

Han Geng nods, albeit reluctantly. “Alright.”

“Then it’s settled.”

*

It was the quiet moments like this that Yunho felt the most human. He waits for the click of the front door as Heechul sees out their guest, then switches off the overhead light in the bedroom, laying down beside Changmin on the wide bed. The first few times they had been on this bed together, Yunho had fucked him with a ruthless animal instinct, seeking only physical release. Undoubtedly it was hot, but simply holding Changmin in his arms now is a thousand times better.

“Yunho,” Changmin murmurs. “What’s going to happen after?”

Yunho shifts on the mattress. “What do you mean?”

“If Han manages to help us and we send Jaejoong to prison. What then?”

“Well, first things first, we get back your passport and birth certificate. And then… you’re free to do whatever you want.”

“Free,” Changmin repeats. Yunho’s reminded again of how the younger man’s never really had the chance to be independent; always in debt to someone, always under somebody else’s control. It makes his heart twist, but he consoles himself with the new hope that Han has offered.

“We’ll take a holiday,” Yunho says suddenly. He hadn’t been thinking about it at all, but as soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows it’s right. “Okinawa. Hawaii. The Caribbean. Anywhere you want to go.”

“You’ll come, right?” He feels, rather than sees, Changmin smiling against his cheek.

“If you want,” Yunho whispers.

“I’ll always want you to come with me,” Changmin admits, lacing their fingers together. Yunho smiles. It’s a promise.

*

The next evening, Heechul finds himself going through his old “street” clothes; outfits he used to wear to attract customers. In the end, he chooses a fitted shirt and sleek trousers; enough to draw attention, but not raise any of Changmin’s suspicion. There was something of an unwritten rule between Heechul and Changmin: to remain honest to each other. They had lived difficult lives on the streets, and many times they had only each other to rely on. The trust built up between them was not something Heechul had ever taken for granted, but nonetheless, he finds himself having to tell a white lie to the younger.

“Right, I’m off,” Heechul says, slinging on his jacket. “Enjoy your evening, and don’t get cum on my sheets, please.”

“They’re _Yunho’s_ sheets,” Changmin calls after him, unfazed as Yunho splutters at Heechul’s vulgar words. Still, he smiles, looking a little happier than Heechul had seen him in quite a while. Nestled comfortably against Yunho on the sofa, the younger man looks content, though the lines of concern on his forehead are obvious to Heechul even from across the apartment. The sight of it strengthens his resolve. He had felt guilty about not quite telling the truth of what he was doing that evening, but if it meant that he could wipe the worry from Changmin’s face permanently, then it would be worth it. Heechul forces a smile and closes the door behind him, taking a breath to steady himself.

The taxi journey is expensive, making him wince as he hands over the bills. He mentally vows to force Han Geng to pay him back.

“At least _he_ can afford this shit,” Heechul mutters to himself, checking the text containing the address the businessman had sent earlier that day. It’s been a while since he’s had to do anything like this, especially with a potential client as wealthy as Siwon. But the motions come back to him easily; he finds a discreet spot in front of the building where he can watch people entering and exiting the building, not drawing any unnecessary attention to himself. Inevitably, it brings back memories of his past, and Heechul tries not to dwell on it; after all, he had no intention of actually following through with prostitution tonight- if things went well.

His phone buzzes; Han Geng is in position.

 _Don’t do anything unnecessary and be careful. If things go sour, get the hell out,_ reads the rest of the text. Heechul rolls his eyes and doesn’t bother to reply. Still, it makes him feel better that there is at least one person looking out for him tonight.

It’s not long before he spots Siwon approaching the building. Jaw set, Heechul leans against the wall, waiting until the businessman is within hearing distance.

“Hello, handsome. Did you miss me?”

Siwon turns automatically, a look of surprise on his face. It instantly turns into a sneer when he spots Heechul.

“Well, well. Look who came crawling back,” Siwon stalks towards him, seeming satisfied with the hidden angle that Heechul had chosen- if he had waited in a more public area, Siwon would have ignored him, unwilling to compromise his pride. “Why are you here? Need money for groceries?”

“Petrol,” Heechul replies coolly. “Interested?”

Siwon gives him a glance, from head to toe, chin tilted up imperiously: as far as he’s aware, Heechul needs this more than he does. Which was true, but not the way Siwon was thinking at all. Heechul wasn’t after money; he wanted a chance to go through Siwon’s apartment.

Frustrated, but trying not to show it, Heechul strokes a finger down Siwon’s shirt, tugging flirtatiously on the end of his tie. “When was the last time you had any time to yourself, hm? Must be so difficult at work with all the pressure and responsibility,” he arches his chest to put his body on full display, feeling triumphant when Siwon’s eyes darken just a touch. “But tonight, you have an opportunity to really let loose. What do you say?”

Siwon grabs his hand, pushing it back uncomfortably. It was an arrogant act, a deliberate show of power so Heechul would know who was really in charge. “Follow me. And don’t bother with the small talk, you’re only here to use your body.”

Heechul bites back a scathing reply, keeping a small distance from Siwon to give passer-by’s the impression that they were strangers who just happened to be walking in the same direction. With someone of Siwon’s status, it was important to do whatever it took to keep them satisfied. It’s also a good opportunity to discreetly send a text to Han Geng.

_I’m in. 10 mins_

He manages to thumb over the send button before hurriedly shoving the phone back in his pocket before entering the elevator with Siwon.

The corridor is empty, but Siwon continues to ignore Heechul until they’re inside his apartment. On full alert, Heechul makes a quick scan of the security; a surprisingly old-fashioned system of a metal key and lock. He breathes a sigh of relief; it’s easier to break in than a door with a card reader he’d have to pick pocket.

“Take off your clothes,” Siwon demands, barely looking at him.

“Aren’t you going to offer me a drink first?” Heechul asks sarcastically.

“What did I say about small talk?” Siwon snaps. “Your clothes. Now.”

Sneering, Heechul pulls of his jacket, heart pounding. He keeps his face aloof, but with every passing second, he can’t help but feel more nervous, until-

With an ear-splitting screech, the fire alarm comes on, the sound insistent and blaring. Outside in the hallway, he can make out sounds of a security guard calling for all residents to evacuate, voice slightly muffled by the front door. In relief, Heechul pauses in unbuttoning his shirt, glancing at Siwon.

“Fuck,” Siwon mutters. “Get out.”

“What about later?” he asks tauntingly, but of course Siwon doesn’t notice.

“Just get out,” the businessman snaps instead. “Don’t bother coming back, this is already going to waste enough of my time.”

He doesn’t need to be told again. Heechul grabs his jacket and makes for the door, using the split second to scan the lock again. Outside in the hallway, it’s easy to blend in with the crowd, keeping a careful eye as Siwon leaves via the staircase. After that, it’s a simple matter of breaking into his apartment, something that Heechul manages to do with very little difficulty. Spending years finding work on street corners sharpened any skills that might help your survival.

Han Geng picks up on the first ring, sounding anxious. “Heechul, I can’t see Siwon, there’s too many people. He could come back up at any minute.”

“I just need a few minutes,” Heechul mutters, rooting through Siwon’s briefcase. “I swear to God if he put everything on a USB and it’s in his pocket right now, we have the worst fucking luck in the world.”

“He must have an office,” Han Geng thinks out loud.

“Where do you think I am?” Heechul snaps, on edge. To his credit, Han Geng doesn’t snap back.

“Oh God, this plan was so stupid,” the businessman hisses instead. “What was I thinking?”

“Shut up for just a second, will you,” Heechul pulls open a desk drawer, biting his lip in frustration when he spots a dozen USB sticks. “Shit, there’s too many memory sticks.” He swipes at the computer, relieved when the screensaver switches off to reveal the desktop.

“You won’t have time to test them all,” Han Geng says, and he bites back a retort, knowing that the other man is just as nervous as he feels.

“So should I just take them all or what?”

“No! He’d notice right away. If we get the right one, he’ll just think he misplaced it, it’d buy us more time,” Han Geng says. “Alright, let’s think. Siwon is rich, powerful, and responsible for millions of Korean Won that keeps the economy afloat. He wouldn’t just buy any old USB stick from the local stationary store.”

“But Jaejoong would,” Heechul follows the train of thought, pushing away the shiny, expensive-looking memory sticks. He settles on a simple white one. It’s made by a common brand, rather battered and the edges of the label peeling. “Please be it,” he whispers, plugging it into the computer. A file pops up, and Heechul opens the documents, eyes wide.

 _Lee HyunWoo,_ a spreadsheet announces. _OneStar Entertainment CEO. Deals drugs for celebrities in the entertainment circle (see document 4.5 for details)._ Beside this is a list of sources and their contact details.

_Choi Minsuk. SunJin Groups Ltd., Marketing Director. Stole $500,000 from company plus tax evasion._

The scrollbar beside the spreadsheet is minute, suggestive of the amount of data on the file. And there were even more documents on the USB stick. “Holy shit,” Heechul breathes.

“Heechul, whatever you’re doing, you need to get out,” Han Geng interrupts his thoughts sharply. “Residents are being let in again.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Hastily, he wipes down anything he’s touched with the sleeve of his shirt- probably an unnecessary precaution, but it makes him feel a little better. The USB stick is safely tucked away into his pocket, and he descends the stairs out in the hallway, feeling sick as the adrenaline leaves his body.

Han Geng is waiting outside, the engine of his car already running. He doesn’t say a word until they’ve driven a safe distance away, pulling over by the side of the road.

“Well?” he asks. Heechul smiles, digging the USB out of his pocket. Han Geng twists to grab his briefcase from the backseat, pulling out his laptop. They lean together to check the USB, Han Geng cursing in Chinese when he sees the huge amount of spreadsheets and documents. He turns to Heechul, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

“You did it!”

Heechul grins back. “ _We_ did it.”

*

Yunho knows something has happened when Heechul returns in under two hours, Han beside him. He sits up straight, almost knocking Changmin to the floor.

“What did you do?”

“Only broke into Siwon’s apartment and stole the USB stick containing Jaejoong’s list of blackmail material,” Heechul shrugs casually, tossing a memory stick at him. Yunho catches it out of reflex, exchanging a bewildering glance with Changmin.

“You can’t be serious,” Changmin says, taking the USB from Yunho’s hand and inspecting it.

“Why didn’t you tell us about this?” Yunho demands, angry. “What if you had been caught?”

  
“I wasn’t, though, was I?” Heechul replies coolly.

“I’m sorry,” Han apologises instead. “We didn’t want to put you both through so much stress again. It was a risk, but it paid off.”

“How can you be sure?” Yunho snaps. “We don’t even know if this is the only copy! Or what if there were more memory sticks?”

“We already discussed that it was unlikely,” Heechul says, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. “Besides, I didn’t do this for you.”

Yunho growls, turning to Han. “You! How could you be so reckless, following his plan?”

“It was my plan,” he replies calmly. “Where did Changmin go?”

Yunho turns, surprised. The younger man is nowhere to be seen. A quick glance into the bedroom shows that it’s empty, so they find him in the office, sat down at Yunho’s computer, the memory stick plugged into the USB port. He’s scanning through the documents, eyes wide.

“Changmin?” Yunho asks softly. Heechul and Han Geng exchange worried glances. But the younger man ignores them all, hands shaking as he reads the documents.

“It’s done. It’s really done,” he murmurs in disbelief.

At that, Yunho feels his anger and fear melt away. He hugs Changmin from behind, leaning down to drop a kiss to his head. It no longer matters that Heechul and Han Geng had kept their plan a secret. It doesn’t matter that they took such a huge risk. It doesn’t even matter if the USB they have is one copy of many- they have enough information to help them combat any schemes Jaejoong and Siwon could concoct. All of those thoughts and worries fade when he sees the look of relief on Changmin’s face. They could stop looking over their shoulders.

It was over.


	10. Epilogue

In the morning, Yunho finds Siwon waiting for him the in the hotel lobby, face a mask of pure fury. Siwon spots him and strides forward purposefully. One of the hotel managers hurries towards him as well, stammering an apology.

“I’m sorry, Sir, he refused to leave, I couldn’t-”

“It’s fine, Yunho waves him away. “Hello, Siwon.”

“You have it, don’t you?” Siwon spits, voice low. “Son of a bitch, you stole it from me!”

“Stole what from you?” Yunho asks, eyebrows raised. Oh, he was truly enjoying this.

“You know I’m talking about the USB stick!”

“Perhaps you should have made another copy,” Yunho says coolly. Siwon stares.

“How did you know there was only one copy?”

Yunho almost laughs out loud. “I didn’t, but you just confirmed it.”

Siwon’s face twists in anger and embarrassment. “You’ll pay for this Jung, just you wait.”

“I don’t think so,” Yunho shrugs. “After all your mess, my company will still merge with Han Industries by the end of the year. Word will get out that you’ve been playing things with Jaejoong, and planning on blackmail. Who would want to do business with you then?”

Siwon gapes as the realisation crashes down his entire world. Yunho almost wants to pity him, but finds that he just doesn’t care. The private elevator behind him pings, opening the doors to reveal Heechul and Changmin, who blink in surprise as they spot Siwon.

“You?” Siwon spits as he spots Heechul. “That’s why you went to my apartment! You’re the one who took the USB!”

“Oh, this is fun,” Heechul drawls with a grin. “Thanks for your help, honey,” he says sweetly. “I couldn’t have done it without you!”

With a shriek of rage, Siwon launches himself forward at the slender man, who easily side-steps him. Security rushes forward, and Yunho calmly asks for them to remove the screaming businessman.

“Well, I’m starving,” Heechul stretches, and Changmin bursts out laughing. “What’s for breakfast?”

*

In the morning, Yoona gives a yelp of surprise when she finds her boss sat at her desk, swinging from side to side on the chair like a child.

“Sir?”

Yunho smiles at her, and Yoona blinks. She had never seen such a genuine, contented expression on his face before. “Sir, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I was waiting for you, actually,” Yunho tells her. He stands up, straightening his jacket. “Everything with the company is being settled now, Han was generous enough to help us out.”

Yoona nods, having received the news last night. Although she’s burning to find out what really happened, she also knows better than to ask. “Will you be needing anything, Sir?”

“Actually, I’ll be taking some time off next month, so please clear up anything that might be on my schedule.”

Yoona jots down the notes, nodding again.

“Also, I’d like for you to sign this,” Yunho hands over a thick stack of paper. Scanning over it, it’s clearly a contract- a job contract for Marketing Director. When it finally sinks in that she’s being promoted, Yoona stares at him, stunned.

“What do you say?” Yunho asks, smiling.

“I- this is quite a big career leap,” Yoon stammers.

“You’ve proven yourself to be more than capable in the time you’ve worked here,” Yunho replies. “Especially with the last few months. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have this position. You deserve it.”

“I don’t know what to say!” Yoona squeals, eyeing the salary. It’s almost three times as much as she used to get paid, which was already a reasonable amount. “I mean, yes! I’ll take the job!”

Yunho laughs at her reaction. “Well then, I’ll give you a few minutes to collect yourself. And when you’re done, please move your things from your desk into your new office.” He makes to leave.

“And Sir, what about you?”

Yunho turns back, looking utterly content. “I told you, I’m taking a break.”

“You need it,” Yoona replies. “With Max?” She can’t help but ask.

Yunho shakes his head. “With Changmin,” he replies.

*

“You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Yunho asks, brow furrowed. Changmin shakes his head and gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

“No, stay in the car. I won’t take long,” he promises, smiling when Yunho nods reluctantly. He watches as the younger man walks into the prison where Jaejoong now lives. He couldn’t figure out for the life of him why on earth Changmin would want to see his cousin again, but Changmin had simply shrugged when Yunho had asked, saying, “I just want to talk with him.”

With a sigh, Yunho pulls a book from the glove compartment. He had plenty of time for activities like reading now, after promoting Yoona to Marketing Director. As promised, her salary had increased an eye-watering amount since the last year, but as far as Yunho was concerned, every penny was entirely deserved. He opens the book where he’d left off, and begins to read.

*

Jaejoong shuffles out to meet him, a sneer twisting his face. “So you decided to grace me with your presence,” he mocks. “How lucky of me!”

“I just came to talk,” Changmin says quietly. He’s no longer under Jaejoong’s control, but he still can’t shake the feeling of submission when the older man is looking at him, the feeling of wanting to run away. Old habits die hard, he thinks to himself. “How are you?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Jaejoong snaps. “You’re the one that put me here; how the fuck do you think I’m doing?”

The guard flicks a glance at them, attention drawn by Jaejoong’s voice. He only looks away again when Changmin gives a small smile of reassurance.

“I only asked because this is the only time I’m going to visit you,” Changmin says. “The police released your belongings, so they’re in storage until you get out. Although I’m not sure what you’ll need them for by the time that happens. And they’ve returned my passport and birth certificate to me. So now I’m free.”

“And why are you telling me this?” Jaejoong snaps, flushed an ugly red colour.

Changmin shrugs. “I just wanted to let you know about your things in storage- I’ve handed the details over to the staff here. And you should know that Siwon’s business is failing. Apparently, word got out that he was planning on blackmailing people with you, and now no one’s interested in doing business with him.”

“Piece of shit deserves worse,” Jaejoong mutters.

“I’m sure the ruined reputation and humiliation is already too much for him,” Changmin replies, uncaring. He stands up, smoothing out the front of his shirt. “I’m leaving now.”

“Go and fuck off, then,” Jaejoong snaps, but he doesn’t even look angry anymore. In that moment, Changmin sees him for what he really is: a pathetic bully who’s lost all his power. For a moment, he can’t believe he used to be so terrified of this man. He stares at his cousin, burning the sight into his memory forever.

“Goodbye, Jaejoong,” Changmin says softly, then turns away, leaving Jaejoong behind him forever.

*

Yunho takes a detour to pick up Heechul, exchanging a surprised look when Han Geng is also there, struggling to hold all their bags. Heechul is simply fanning himself with a magazine.

“You invited Han Geng as well?” Changmin hisses, as Yunho hurries to help their friend load the bags into the boot of the car.

“Hey, if you can bag yourself a sugar daddy, so can I,” Heechul flips his hair and sprawls across the backseat.

“Yunho is _not_ my sugar daddy!”

“So I guess he’s just a very generous _friend_ who’s offered to pay for your university tuition.”

“I’m going to pay him back-” Changmin protests flushed. He shuts up as Yunho and Han Geng climb into the car. Heechul leers at him and Changmin sticks his tongue out like a child. They both giggle, only laughing louder as Han Geng stares at them in confusion.

“Everyone ready?” Yunho asks.

Their destination is miles away from the heart of the city, somewhere along the coast with wide open space. Heechul takes up all the room in the backseat, leaning against Han Geng and smirking as the older man blushes. Yunho laughs when he talks, and Changmin holds his hand across the gearstick, smiling along.

By the time they arrive at their lodgings, Heechul and Han Geng immediately go to bed, yawning and stretching. Left alone in their bedroom, Changmin opens the window, savouring the breeze. The air here tastes a little salty from the nearby ocean. Yunho holds him from behind in the dim lighting, and Changmin can feel him smiling against his neck.

“Enjoying your holiday so far?” he asks.

“It’s not bad,” Changmin replies, kissing his quickly. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Yunho whispers. Their lips meet as the sun sets, bodies silhouetted against the window, ready for the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to update again OTL
> 
> But hopefully posting the rest of the fic makes up for it, yeah? Honestly I'm not sure if I like the ending, so let me know your honest thoughts in the comments please >_


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